


please don't let them look through the curtains

by castielanderson



Category: All New X-Factor, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel (House of M), X-Men (Comicverse), Young Avengers
Genre: Ableism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Depression, Disasters, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Magnus Family, Mutant Politics, PTSD, Past Sexual Assault, Political Animals AU, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 68,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4949842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda Maximoff, Secretary of State under President Steve Rogers, is blackmailed by ruthless journalist, David Alleyne, into covering her son Thomas' engagement.  Said blackmail is a story of her other son Billy's struggles with sobriety.  When this story is published by David's boyfriend, Loki, in a fit of drunken anger, the two of them, and the entire Maximoff family is thrown into a chaotic series of difficult events involving drug addiction, depression, anxiety, and suicide.  Wanda struggles to find balance between being Madam Secretary and a mother.  Tommy tries to take care of everyone else without losing himself.  Pietro has to stand up and be the brother and godfather he hasn't been in years.  And Billy?  Billy's just trying to survive.  Among blossoming romances and seemingly pointless politics, the Maximoffs are forced to come together as family, which - they're not sure has ever happened before.  A Political Animals AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, kiddos, here it is - the fic that I've been working on for over a year. In a stroke of genius, I watched Political Animals around the same time I started reading Young Avengers, and this brainchild was born. It's gone through a lot of editing and a lot of betas, mostly Jaime (thelumineers on tumblr), to whom I owe the greatest thanks. Also I need to thank my girlfriend, Lexi (harleyyivyy), Pan (foxscvlly), Tegan (n0vac0rps), and Summer (steveebuck) for their endless support.
> 
> Now, since this fic deals with some heavy, heavy shit, I'm going to put warnings on every chapter, including what scene they're in, which I have numbered. The warnings are overviewed in the tags, but I want you all to make sure you're taking care of yourselves, especially if you like to push your triggers like I do. Also, you should know that a lot of these themes are present throughout, but the chapter warnings refer to instances that are specifically graphic.
> 
> So, here are the warnings for the first chapter: talk of past suicide attempt (scenes 3, 7, 9, 10, 11, 18), alcohol consumption: (5, 6, 9, 11) incest-y vibes, though no intentional incest was written (5, 14, 16), drug abuse (6, 11), prominent ableism (5, 18)

1.

Wanda has always appreciated the view from her office - an expanse of gardens, trimmed hedges, blooming flowers, the sunlight that bathes the room in bright, yellow light.   Today, however, the calming sight can't help the nausea bubbling in her stomach, or the rage coursing through her veins.  Her temples are throbbing with a headache, and her nerves are on edge.  A knock on the door pulls her out of the cascade of horrible thoughts and memories (Pietro, standing in front of her without an ounce of regret; Scott Summers and Logan Howlett sneering at her with only disgust; Billy, lying on the bathroom floor, surrounded in a pool of his own blood.)

"Ms. Maximoff?  David Alleyne has arrived."

"Send him in," Wanda sighs, pushing herself up.

Her staff opens the door, and David enters the room with confidence, those obnoxious yellow-lensed glasses perched on his nose.  Wanda meets him halfway across the room, not even pretending to offer a peaceful smile.  She keeps a stony face as she shakes his hand, squeezing a little too hard to remain friendly.

"Secretary Maximoff," David says, smiling.

"Mr. Alleyne," Wanda replies, taking a seat on the sofa.

David follows her.  He opens up his notepad before pulling a voice recorder out of his briefcase.  He turns it on and sets it on the table.

"So, it's the big the week - the week of your son, Tommy's engagement.  How does it feel?"

"Very exciting," Wanda replies, though she doesn't sound excited at all.  "Thomas and Kate have been together for quite awhile, and I'm really glad Tommy's found such happiness with her."

"How do you feel about Ms. Bishop?" David asks.  "Her family hasn't exactly been on Team Maximoff in elections past."

"Kate is a lovely girl," Wanda says, earnest.  "She's a woman of her own, and she's helped Thomas immensely in his work, which is coincidentally also my work.  So no, there isn't anything hidden there.  I'm more than happy to welcome Kate into our family."

"Let's move onto the engagement dinner tonight," David continues.  "This is the first time you've seen Pietro in six months, correct?"

"Correct," Wanda replies, jaw set.

"Are you nervous?  Apprehensive, maybe?  Do you think it's wise to reconcile with your twin brother at such an event, especially when it's all about Tommy and Kate and could harbor the potential to turn the course of the evening?"

Wanda sighs heavily before answering.  She knows where all of these questions are going, and frankly, she would just rather talk about what David really wants.

"Yes, I'm nervous," Wanda replies with edge.  "Anyone who's followed our lives could see that I'm nervous to reconnect with my brother, especially at an event covered by the likes of you, Mr. Alleyne.  I am prepared to be civil, and I certainly hope Pietro feels the same way.  Now - "

She cuts off, swiping the recorder from the table and shutting it off.

"We're off the record, so why don't you ask me what you really want?"

David stares at her with mock confusion, something like fear flashing in his eyes.  "What do you mean, Secretary?"

"You won a Pulitzer several years ago," Wanda says, straightening herself up, "for covering Pietro's betrayal and the forced release of my research in the science of mutant superiority."

"Y - yes," David says uncertainly.

"But no Pulitzers since?" Wanda sneers.

David stays silent.

"Tell me, David - how does it feel to have jump-started your career by stepping on the throat of my family?  How does it feel that you're willing to do that again just to keep your precious career going?"

David swallows hard, keeping his head up, but visibly shrinking.

"Secretary Maximoff - "

"Why are you here, David?" she asks.  "Why was it so important to you to be here during the week of my son's engagement?   And why was it necessary to blackmail me with the release of another article about my other son's struggles with alcoholism?"

David presses his lips together.

Wanda’s smirk is devilish.  "Oh, yes - I know.  Don't think anything goes through my people and doesn't reach me.  I was told, David, that you had a story - a story about William's struggles, but that wouldn't be news except for the fact that you managed to get your disgusting little hands on a sealed medical document.  I was told that if you didn't get this week with me, you were going to print that article about what happened six months ago to William, so we bargained and met your demands.  So let's cut the bullshit and you ask me what you really want so I can get on preparing for this evening and you can get the hell out of my sight until then."

David regards her for a moment, obviously unsure that he can proceed as she says, but once she backs off, he jumps at this chance.

"Look, Secretary - I just - your career has been under so much scrutiny and so many journalists have theorized about what happened two years ago, and I - I want the truth, Secretary.  I just want to know - what happened the night of the Stark Expo rally.  Why did you ask Pietro to resign?  Why did you ask him to resign that night, after you lost the primary election?  Or did you even ask him at all?  Was it he who decided to leave you, opting instead to join Scott Summers like the rumors said?  And why didn't he ultimately run with Summers?  Was it you who stopped him?  What really happened to make him disappear from politics, and for you to settle as Secretary of State under President Steve Rogers, even though you adamantly refused the position in the past?"

Wanda remains thoughtful and silent after David finishes rattling off his questions.  A million and one emotions run through her, but most of them amount to her wanting to slap him across the face.  She refrains, and careful, calculated, gives her answer.

"It's no secret that Pietro and I have different views when it comes to the rights of mutants in this country.  The night of the Stark Expo, we had to decide where to go from there.  I knew what I wanted, but Pietro wanted something else entirely, and he wouldn't rest until I did what he wanted.  I asked him to resign then.  I told him to pursue his beliefs in his own career, not through mine.  He didn't go to Scott Summers because I presume it felt wrong to do so without me.  As for joining Steve Rogers, I declined in the past because I was very headstrong in my own career and my own campaign and how I wanted to proceed with mutant rights, but I know Steve.  I've known him for a long time and he wanted me for my knowledge and my expertise, and well - when the President asks something of you, you listen and you oblige.  Secretary of State is certainly not what I wanted, but it's what Steve wanted, and I respect him enough to do what I can with what he's given me."

Wanda stands up without another word, turning her back on David.

"Escort him out," she says to no one in particular.  "I'll see you this evening, Mr. Alleyne."

The door shuts on him looking frustrated, and Wanda can't wipe the smirk from her face.

_

2.

"Thank you for sharing, Roy.  Billy, do you want to go next?"

Billy shifts his weight in his chair.  Being in the circle is familiar to him now.  Every face looking back at him, he knows, but he doesn't know if he'll ever get used to all of this as a whole.  He's still so apprehensive about sharing stories and feelings and especially his past.  And anywhere beyond these grisly, green walls is out of question.  He still hates knowing that he has to be here, that he has to take time out of his day to drive across town in a secret vehicle and follow the signs through the building that read Alcoholics Anonymous.

"H - hi," Billy says.  "I'm Billy Maximoff.  I'm a recovering alcoholic, and after a brief relapse, I've been sober for two weeks.  Um - tonight is - it's my brother Tommy's engagement party, as I'm sure most of you know."  He gives an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.  "I have . . . a lot of anxiety about tonight.  My - my uncle Pietro is going to be there.  I haven't seen him in six months, not - not since the incident, and I know it's going to be a really tense evening.  I'm - I'm scared I won't be able to stay sober.  Especially when so much alcohol is going to be available."

"Well, Billy - that's what Teddy's for.  Call him when you feel yourself slipping."

Billy looks up from his lap, meeting Teddy Altman's gaze across the circle.

If you want to be simple about it, Teddy Altman is Billy's sober partner.  They call each other when the urges come, when the bad nights surface, when it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Unfortunately, there isn't anything simple about their relationship because with the all this vulnerability, it's extremely hard not to grow close.  Throw in the fact they're both obviously attracted to each other, and well, they've got a huge mess.

Of course, they've never really done anything about it.

Billy's still a mess, and Teddy's been sober for three years.  He just prefers AA to therapy.  They're both terrified and not sure where this stands in the whole code of AA and maybe their relationship is still too fragile for this and there's the whole thing with the fact that their relationship is tied to sobriety, and -

"It's complicated" would be an understatement.

After the meeting, Teddy corners him.  Well, it's hardly a cornering since they always talk after meetings, but Teddy means serious business today.  Billy can see it clearly in his face that Teddy is worried about him.

"What's on your mind, Billy?"

Billy shakes his head, looking down.  "A lot."

"Like what?" Teddy prods, giving him a playful, yet slightly sad grin.

"Like - the dinner tonight," Billy begins with a sigh.  "Having to see Pietro, having to watch my mom with him again - all that tension.  And - and Tommy - I'm worried about him, how he's going to handle all of this.  And then - well, there's this kind of big thing - "

Teddy holds a palm up.  "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to."

"No, I - I want to," Billy says, though it's not entirely convincing.  He motions for Teddy to come closer, and he does.  "I'm thinking about going back to Dr. Strange.  He - he's starting this new project - 'Project Demiurge' - and, I don't know, Teddy.  I don't think repressing my powers is what's good for me - "

"It wasn't for me," Teddy interjects.

"Right, so - I don't know.  I think I would just feel better having control again.  And learning, and doing.  Maybe - maybe it's part of the reason I've been so down, and - and been relapsing like I have."

"Well," Teddy says, heaving a deep breath.  "I think you should do whatever you believe is best for you.  I - I know something happened last time that sparked the incident, but if you believe that what Strange is doing is going to help you, then I say go for it, Billy.  Your powers are an important part of who you are, and suppressing them is only going to do you harm."

Billy smiles, and it’s genuine.

"Thank you, Teddy."

"You're welcome, of course," Teddy replies.  His expression changes to something serious.  "Don't hesitate to call me, Billy.  I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know," Billy assures.  "And I won't hesitate.  I plan on staying sober tonight."

Although, the cash in his back pocket says otherwise.

_

3.

David looks up as Loki walks into their stuffy office with heavy feet, looking exhausted and worn down.  He collapses into the creaky, ugly yellow chair behind his desk, rubbing at his temples.  David frowns, looking at him with concern - concern he really doesn't need.

"How was your noontime AA meeting?" he asks, wary.

"Fine," Loki says shortly, not even bothering to look at him.  "Surprised you weren't there, actually."

"I told you that I had - "

"Well, I'm sure Teddy missed you," Loki says coolly.

"Loki, we've talked about this - "

"Yes, yes," Loki says, waving a hand.  "It was just a one-time thing.  You were drunk and angry at me, and it wasn't like you had sex.  It was one, little kiss.  Except I saw you two outside AA last week, giggling like young girls."

"We're allowed to talk," David says, voice filled with ice.  "We're friends, Loki."

Loki huffs.  Friends, schmends.  He's heard it a hundred times.

"And Teddy's in love with Billy Maximoff anyway.  Which you could probably tell if you ever paid attention in AA meetings."

Loki stares at him, eyes flashing with anger.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," David sighs.  "Just - just forget about it."

"Whatever," Loki mutters.

"Do you want to hear about the interview with Secretary Maximoff?"

"Sure," Loki says, playing idly with his computer mouse, refusing to look at his boyfriend.

"We were two minutes into it when she brought up the Pulitzer," David pouts.  "Six years later and she's still bitter.  God, what does she even think journalists do?  We tell the public the truth, not feed them dirt."

Loki looks up for a moment.  "In her defense it's usually the same thing."

"Still," David mutters.  "I mean - at least I got what I wanted, and I have a week to get more."

"A whole week," Loki mumbles, then looks at David quizzically.  "You never told me about that - how did you get a whole week with her?"

David hesitates, staring at Loki for a long moment.  He takes a deep breath, looking alarmingly somber.  "Billy Maximoff tried to kill himself."

Loki, however, isn't impressed.  "That's old news."

"To you," David says.  "But not to the public - "

"You can't print an article based on something you heard from an AA meeting - that's confidential."

"I have other proof," David clarifies.  "I have a sealed medical document.  Six months ago, Billy was admitted to Thomas Jefferson Hospital for slit wrists and severe blood loss.  He stayed there for a couple days to recover and was then moved to a psych ward for rehab."

Loki stares, wide-eyed and sad.  He has a million things to say, but the rush of panic has his mouth shut tight.

"Loki?"

"I guess that’s why he wears long sleeves all the time,” he huffs, then winces.  “He never - he never told us exactly what happened.  He didn't even talk about trying to kill himself.  It was just the way he referred to it - 'the incident.'   We figured it was either alcohol poisoning or a suicide attempt.  And if it was a suicide attempt, we all thought that alcohol must have been involved, but - "

He hangs his head, stricken with sudden despair.

"There was no alcohol in his system," David clarifies, voice cracking.

"Oh, God - " Loki breathes.  He pushes his keyboard and mouse away, hand coming up to rest against his mouth.  His stomach churns, and his head is starting to spin.  Every moment shared with Billy in that dim-lit, sour room runs through his mind, his face over and over and over again.  His sad brown eyes, the bags underneath them, the thin stretch of his mouth attempting to smile reassuringly - and then old memories creep back.  A rush of wind, water surging underneath Loki's feet, imbalance, and then he's falling -

Loki squeezes his eyes shut in attempt to push everything back.

"Loki - "

"I'm fine," Loki says, though there's a strong ringing in his ears, and David sounds so far away.

"Loki," David says again, sweet and gentle, but Loki's already closed himself off.

"I'm fine," he says again with force.

David sighs, but backs off.

"I'll see you tonight," he mutters before exiting the office. Loki doesn’t care; he’ll talk to David when he's ready.

_

4.

Wanda sits in front of the mirror, makeup spread out on the vanity in front of her.  Several large lights shine overhead, and they highlight just how tired and spent she looks.  She works carefully, applying foundation to the wrinkles and dark spots on her skin.  The shadows under her eyes disappear, and blush adds color to her face.   By the time she finishes, she looks like she could positively breeze through this dinner.

A knock on the door grabs her attention.  She turns around in her chair as Billy walks in, a bright smile on his face.  Wanda's heart gives a squeeze; smiles like that are so rare these days.

"Hey, Mom," he says.  He slides behind her and rests his hands on her shoulders.

"Billy.  How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty well," he replies, but Wanda can't tell if he's lying or not.  "How are you feeling about tonight?"

Wanda sighs, reaching up to grab Billy's hand.  "Incredibly, incredibly anxious."

Billy laughs nervously, "You too?"

Wanda squeezes his fingers in her own.  Her throat feels too tight to talk.  "Bills, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He looks at her with confusion, then alarmed, pulls away from her and takes a step back. "Wait - how did you find out?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Billy."

"I'll tell you in a second.  Finish what you were going to say."

Wanda stares at her son through the mirror for just a moment, but ultimately decides to let it go.  It's taken a lot of courage to work up what she has to tell her son, and she can't let anything deter that.  She spins the chair around, facing Billy.

"Why don't you take a seat, Billy," she all but whispers, gesturing to the chair beside her.

He listens, and she can see the panic bubbling beneath the surface.  She has to close her eyes and swallow against the lump in her throat.  She hates that this is happening, and she wishes she could keep this from him, but the world of journalism is fragile, and David Alleyne has the evidence.  Eventually it will get out.

"Mom," Billy prods.

Wanda braces herself, and opens her eyes.  "David Alleyne has the story.  Honey, he knows about what happened six months ago.  He has a medical document."

The panic in Billy's expression disappears, and he's left frozen in his seat, all emotions unreadable.  After a minute or so of silence, Wanda thinks she can see the resignation washing over him, and with that - the shame, the guilt, the anxiety.  She lays her bony hands on his knees.

"Billy - we stopped him.  He was going to print it if we didn't give him the week to cover us, but he's covering us, so it's safe."  They both know it's a lie when safe leaves her lips.

Billy heaves a deep breath, then shakes his head.  "It's - it's fine, Mom.  I mean - I'm surprised it's managed to stay covered up this long.  And really - it's just the way it is.  Occupational hazard of being a Maximoff.  The world only loves us when they're not busy hating us."

Wanda frowns, and she feels the lump in her throat enlarge, and she can't speak.  She doesn't know how to comfort Billy.  She could lie, but they've both spent eight years in the White House, and they know more than most how horrible people are.

"Now," she says, eager to change the subject, "what did you want to talk about?"

The sadness in his eyes is immediately replaced with panic, once again.

"Oh," he says slowly, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck.  "Well - don't freak out okay - I just - I've started feeling pretty bad again, and I've been talking a lot with the people at AA, and - well, I did research and Dr. Strange has started a different, more organic project, and - honestly, I'm tired of suppressing my powers, Mom.  It's not right.  It feels so - wrong.  I just - I want to see what I can do.  I want - I want to feel worthy again.  I hate feeling worthless."

Wanda's first instinct, of course, is to freak out, but she forces her brain to shut up and really, really tries to listen to Billy.  She hears him, she really does.  And she understands.  She remembers what it was like before she could control what she could do.  But Stephen Strange - god, Billy could go to anyone else.  She knows Strange is the best, but with what happened last time?  He pushed too far.  He pushed Billy way too far.  Of course, Billy has support now, and he has that experience behind him, and maybe if he feels confident enough to go back, then -

"I don't know," Wanda sighs.  "Billy, I'm sorry - it's just.  You know what happened before, and I - I can't go through that again, and you - you can't go through that again - "

"Mom, it's different this time," Billy pleads.

Wanda bites her lip, hopeless as she tries to weigh her options.  She can't; she's too overwhelmed.  She's had a hell of a day, and she just can't think.

"Talk to your uncle, Pietro," she says at last, blurting it all out.  "If he says you can, you can."

She knows what Pietro's going to say of course, but it's worth a shot.  And maybe - well, maybe Pietro could talk some sense into to Billy.  He's always had better control of his powers.  If Billy would just listen.  Of course he wouldn't listen to his mother.  She's far too soft.  Wanda feels bad making this promise, but Billy, luckily, seems okay with it.

He smiles and stands up.  He bends over once he's on his feet to kiss her on the forehead.

"Thank you, Mom.  I'll make you proud."

She watches him go, that stupid lump refusing to ease.  He's twenty-seven now, but ever since that night six months ago, all she can see is a little boy.  A scared, helpless little boy.

_

5.

The hall is extravagant.  It's decorated with white - white linens, white candles, white flowers, white garland - all the works.  The oak furniture is polished, and the air is filled with the smell of bread, potato soup, and roast beef.  Wanda welcomes everyone inside, holding in a cringe when David Alleyne walks through the door in a newly-pressed suit and slim tie.

"Good evening," she says, polite as possible.  "Right through those doors."

"You look stunning, Madam Secretary," David charms.

Wanda grimaces, but ignores him all the same, the next guest now in her presence.

She listens as best as she can however, when her father approaches David.  It's going to be a trainwreck, but Wanda can't find it within herself to care.

"Hmm, so you're the reporter," Erik drawls.  He lifts a glass to his mouth, taking a hearty sip of red wine.

David glances at him.  "Yes - yes.  I'm David Alleyne."  He holds out his hand for Erik to shake, but Erik merely looks at with distaste.

"Ugh, you're just a horrible little pest, aren't you?" Erik mutters.  He shakes his head before throwing back another gulp.  "It's not enough that you had to ruin my children's lives all those years ago, but now you're after my grandson as well."

David frowns.  "You sure have a lot to say for someone who's got felons for several violent mutant rights protests, manslaughter pending."

"At least I admit exactly who I am," Erik says.  "I made my living off of exposing corruption, not feeding it like you filthy rats do, and then trying to pass it off as something about the 'freedom of speech.'  You sour the name of mutant, Mr. Alleyne."

Erik walks away without another word, and Wanda smirks to herself.

When everyone's seated inside, Wanda breathes a small sigh.  This was categorized as a small event, and yet, Wanda's talked to enough people for a migraine to start brewing at the base of her temples.  With only the guard trailing behind her, she lets herself into the dining hall, smiling as wide as she can and taking her seat across from her brother.

She had only briefly seen him walk in.  Someone else had greeted him.  Tommy, she hopes.  Pietro and Tommy had always gotten along.

The food comes quick, but Pietro still has enough time to steal a glance across the table.

"Good evening," he says, tucking his napkin across his lap.

"Good evening, Pietro," Wanda replies, even.

"Do you feel old?" he asks, a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.  "Thomas is all grown up, paving his own way here, marrying - pretty soon he'll be starting a family of his own.  You'll be a grandmother."

Wanda shakes her head, but she can't hide her own grin.  "And you might as well be the grandfather, huh, Pietro?"

"Godfather, I expect," he corrects.  

"Don't get your hopes up too soon," Wanda warns.  She cuts off the conversation by picking up her fork and intruding on her plate.

As she eats, she lets her eyes trail down the table.  For the couple of celebration, Tommy and Kate look stressed, but they fake it well.  Tommy smiles at everyone and Kate laughs enough at every terrible joke to convince everyone she finds it funny.  Billy sits on the other side of her, picking at his food and drinking heartily from his wine glass.  Wanda feels her heart dip in her chest.

"So," Pietro voices, turning to Tommy, "Have you guys thought of any honeymoon destinations yet?"

"Yes," Tommy says, then falters.  "Well - " he glances at Kate " - we're considering Transia, of course."

"We were?" Kate asks, alarmed.

"Yes," Tommy says pointedly.  "We - we were just tossing it around among the rest, remember?"

"Yes," Kate says slowly.

She turns towards Billy.  Tommy attempts to laugh the confusion off, and Kate rolls her eyes.  Billy snickers as he goes for the wine bottle to refill his glass.  Kate grabs it before him, bringing it right up to her lips.  Billy pouts and Kate laughs, but Wanda makes a mental note to thank her later.  Billy's clearly had enough, but it's not the right time to start a scene.

The rest of the dinner passes along with ease, though it's impossible to escape a bit of awkward tension.  Wanda keeps a careful eye on Billy, worry bubbling underneath her skin.  He doesn't seem as stressed as she had feared, but Wanda knows how well he bottles things up, especially when given access to alcohol.

After dessert has been served, Pietro taps his wine glass with a soiled spoon.

He stands up to the eyes of the room.

"I think it's well overdue for a toast," he begins.  He quirks his head and stares down at the couple with a crooked smile.  "You know, if I would have picked either of my nephews to be gay, I would have picked Tommy."

Billy lurches forward.  He slaps a hand on the table and laughs, "This is awesome."

"Tommy was such a particular kid.  He always cared more about his appearance than Billy.  He refused to play in the dirt because he was scared of ruining the clothes Wanda bought for him, but Billy would have layers of stains and patterns of tears.  He was constantly ruining his wardrobe, and Tommy would scold him for it.  Tommy wasn't particularly affectionate, which did worry me when it came to the idea of him finding a girl some day.  Maybe that's why I felt the gay thing.  I was hoping he would be interested in someone who wouldn't care that he was emotionally aloof.  Luckily, he did find Kate."

Kate laughs at that.  Tommy hangs his red face.

"Kate," Pietro sighs.  "You're an incredible young woman, and I'm so happy that Tommy has someone like you in his life.  He's struggled a lot in the past, but I know that you'll treat him so well in your lives.  I wish the utmost happiness to the two of you, and I can't wait to see you two at the altar."

He raises his glass.  "To the happy couple."

A chorus of chiming glass follows.  Billy looks down, disappointed to find his wine glass empty.  He aims to grab the bottle again.  Unfortunately (or fortunately if you're looking at it from Wanda's angle), Kate hands it off to someone down the table.  He slouches back into his seat, resigned.

After dinner, most of the guests trickle out.  The Maximoff family retreats to a private lounge.  

Wanda tries to keep her distance from Pietro, but he's a magnet.  He pulls her in, charms her with his smiles and his way with words.  She keeps getting glimpses of the brother she knows is buried underneath the years of hardening politics.  Sirens blare in her mind, but she can't make her emotions listen.

Pietro leans against the fireplace, a wine glass dangling from his fingertips.  The blue sweater hugs his body, and Wanda can see the power erect inside of him.  This stature reminds her of the way he used to stand in front of crowds.  How he could balance easygoing and in charge.  She always admired him.  He made her want to be a better politician.

"Did you enjoy tonight?"   She treads with care, her hands folded together, fingers locked at her waist.

"I've missed you, Wanda."

She stumbles on her heel, but manages to catch herself.

"Pietro - "

"I'm just being honest, sister," he says, and he turns his gaze to her.  "We were so great once, and I can never forget that."

Wanda stiffens and sighs.  "We pursued different paths, Pietro.  Neither of us can turn back.  You and I - we want very different things."

"Are you sure about that?" Pietro asks.  He slides a hand in his pocket and takes a calm step forward.

"I'm working under Steve Rogers.  Last I checked, you were Scott Summers' lapdog."

"Was I?" Pietro asks, eyebrows upturned.  "I never did run with him, Wanda.  I turned him down."

"You considered," Wanda says.  "That's enough."

"I might look like father, but I'm not him," Pietro says, voice firm.  His eyes darken, and his jaw sets.

"You could have fooled me," Wanda says, stepping backward.

Pietro sighs heavily.  "And it would appear I have.  Wanda, just listen - "

She prepares to, but before Pietro can get a word in edgewise, Billy bursts through the door behind them, a new bottle of wine in hand.  Wanda's heart drops to the floor, and she hears Pietro sigh beside her.

"Uncle Pete," Billy says.  He smiles wide and points the bottle of wine at Pietro.

Pietro smiles back, lips tight.

Billy settles in his tracks.  He looks at his uncle with big eyes and that sloping smile.  "It's really good to see you, Pietro."

Pietro's expression softens, and he steps forward to pull his nephew into a hug.  "It's good to see you too, Billy."  He presses a hand down on Billy's shoulder and manages to cover a wince when he catches a whiff of Billy's alcohol-tinged breath.

Billy runs a hand through his hair and doesn't notice Pietro taking a step back.

"I've been meaning to talk to you all night," he begins, voice shaky, "I just couldn't work up the courage."

Pietro's eyebrows scrunch together.  "Billy, why - "

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you about."

Wanda looks up from where she had been staring at the ground as she gets wind of what exactly Billy's about to jump into.  A hand comes up just to halt, but she holds every word in her mouth.  There's no point.

Pietro shifts his weight.  "Yes, Billy?"

"I talked to Mom about this already, but - "  Billy heaves a deep breath, looking away from his uncle.  "I've been in contact with Stephen Strange again, and he's starting this new project - "

"No," Pietro says shortly.

Billy whips his head up to look at Pietro and blinks.  "Pietro - "

"Absolutely not."  Pietro stands his ground, eyes much darker.  "You're not going down that path again, Billy."

"Mom," Billy says, incredulous.  He looks to her, urging her with his eyes to say something.

Wanda shakes her head and presses her lips together.

Billy's mouth hangs open for a second before he collects himself.  "You said if I talked to Pietro - "

"I didn't give you a yes, Billy," Wanda interjects.

"You're a goddamn liar," Billy hisses.

Pietro steps forward, pressing a firm hand against Billy's chest.  "Don't you dare talk to your mother like that."

"Get your hands off me," Billy says, and he throws himself backward.  He raises his voice as he continues.  "I can't believe this.  I can't believe you can't just let me have something to myself."

"Billy - " Wanda starts, but the door opens again.  This time, Tommy steps through.

"What's going on?"

Everyone ignores him.

"Billy, you're not even in the right mind to be talking about this," Pietro huffs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Billy asks and narrows his eyes.

"It' means you're drunk," Pietro says.  He rips the bottle of wine from Billy's hand and slams it on the table next to him.  "You're supposed to be sober before you worry about anything else."

"I have been sober," Billy argues, but he slurs his words and effectively contradicts his own statement.

"This is a joke," Pietro sighs.  "You're not going back to Strange.  Not after what you pulled last time."

"Pietro - " Wanda says.  She grabs her brother by the shoulder and shoves him backward.

Billy freezes.  All the anger obvious in his expression disappears.  He stares at his uncle with glassy eyes and shaking lips.  His feet move without him realizing, and he takes slow, unsure steps backward.

"Really?" he asks, and his voice is dangerously quiet.   "After what I pulled?  Like it was some kind of practical joke?  Is that what was to you, Pietro?  Really?"  He shakes his head as he turns on his heel.  "I hate this family."

Without another word, he's gone, slamming the door behind him.

Tommy looks at Pietro with disappointment.  "Couldn't you just go easy on him?"

Pietro grabs the wine that's spilled over on the table and takes a hearty swig.

_

6.

Billy's hands shake as he taps the white pills into his palm.  Five Ativan.  Billy throws his head back and tosses the pills in his mouth.  They're chalky on his tongue  and have a bitter taste.  Bitter doesn't faze him anymore.  Billy's head reels, and his stomach turns.  His reflection looks like a caricature, all dead eyes and flushed cheeks.  He feels a gripping urge to punch the mirror.

His phone vibrates against the base of the sink and Billy jumps.  His heart thrums wildly, but it slows the moment he sees that he's only received a text from Teddy Altman.

_How are you doing?_   
**Read  9:08**

Billy thumbs a response, but it takes much longer due to his unsteady hands.

_I'm tired.  Just heading off to bed._   
**Sent**

There's a sick swooping in his stomach as he waits for a reply.  He worries that Teddy will see through the front he's putting up, but what happens is worse.  Teddy buys it.

_I hope you sleep well!  I'll keep my phone next to me_   
_in case you need to talk in the middle of the night._   
**Read 9:12**

_Thanks.  Goodnight_   
**Sent**

_Goodnight, Billy._   
**Read  9:15**

Billy sneaks out to his car, narrowly missing a resistant Tommy who's being dragged along by Kate.  On his way back to his apartment, Billy considers veering off the road and crashing his car into something along the speed of ninety miles per hour, but he doesn't have the guts.  Besides, he's got another plan waiting for him.

A bottle of vodka is stashed away in a locked cupboard.  Billy doesn't unlock it (his fingers are too clumsy); he beats it with hammer until it breaks, and grabs the vodka like it's an AED.

The bottle is half gone when there's a knock on his door.  He opens it with his free hand, the fingers on his other loose around the neck of the bottle.

"Look, you never sent a face pic - " the guy in the doorway stops talking.  His mouth hangs open, and Billy finds himself staring at the discolored and raised spots on his skin.  He's still got a great physique and a good jawline.  Billy approves.  "Holy shit.  You're - "

Billy grabs him by the lapel of his jacket.  "Let's pretend I'm not."

The guy is eager to bend to Billy's force, letting Billy slam him into the couch and rip off his jacket.

"What's your name?" Billy asks.

"Wade," he chokes.  "And shit - you're number two on my list."

Billy slows as he unbuttons Wade's shirt.  "Your list?"

"My celebrity fuck list."  Wade grins.  "My boyfriend, Peter, and I made lists of celebrities we're allowed to fuck given the chance.  You're number two."

"Who's number one?" Billy asks, reaching for Wade's pants.

"Wolverine," Wade replies.

Billy shakes his head.

Wade groans when Billy's hand finds its way underneath the waistband of his pants.  "Hey, I just - I have to tell you - "

"Yeah, yeah," Billy sighs.  "You've wanted to fuck me since I was a twink in the White House.  If you would shut up, here's your chance."

Wade shuts his mouth.

_

7.

Kate's hair is imperfect.  She has split ends and her bangs are crooked and choppy.  Tommy likes to brush them out of her face, so he doesn't mind.  She has freckles underneath her eyes and on the bridge of her nose, and there's a mole on her lower back, right above the curve of her ass.  She has scars on her arms that she tries to hide, but Tommy kisses them from time to time.  She is absolutely beautiful, and Tommy knows this.

And he would definitely be thinking that right now as she lies underneath him, glowing, her hair flowing around her face, but she is also talking as much as she can and Tommy's dick is not as hard as it should be and he's starting to feel a headache developing behind his eyes.

"My dad can't come to the dinner, but he sends one of his call girls - I mean, what the fuck.  And ugh, Tommy, you should really tell your mother not to have alcohol at these kinds of things.  I mean, I know everyone wants to get drunk to get through the night, but I took that bottle away from Billy at least five times.  Like, you would think your mom would know better."

She looks up at him and frowns.

"Oh, God - why are we talking about your brother during sex?  Now I'm just seeing him on top of me."

Tommy comes to halt, resting halfway inside Kate.  She pulls herself off of him with a nasty squelch - which is probably mostly the lube because this has honestly been terrible sex.

"Talking?  Sex?" Tommy asks.  His breathing is heavy, and he collapses on the bed.  "Neither of these things were my idea."

Kate sighs and rolls over to face him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles.  "You're always such a good sport about this stuff, and I totally ruined the moment."

"It's fine," Tommy says.  He grabs her hand and traces her knuckles with his thumb.  "I don't mind.  Just - next time you want an orgasm, but you also need to rant, let me eat you out and finger you instead.  That way, I can keep my clothes on, my dick soft, and I won't be expected to respond.  Plus, you taste good, which is nice for me."

Kate laughs from her belly, then leans in to peck Tommy on the cheek.

"But seriously," she continues as she pulls away.  "Weren't you worried about your brother?

Tommy takes a deep breath.  He nods and starts following the pattern of the sheets with his fingertip.

"He's supposed to call his sober partner."

"Evidently that didn't happen."

"Obviously.  And then - God, when I walked in on his argument with Pietro, and Pietro said that awful shit about Billy's suicide attempt.  I don't know why he and Mom are so hard on Billy.  He tries.  He tries so much, but they won't ever cut him slack.  He's just - he's sick, and they don't get it.  They think - or well, Pietro, mostly.  He thinks Billy's such a failure, that Billy actually wants to be this messed up.  And it's - if Billy really wanted to be like this, he wouldn't have tried to kill himself."

Kate swallows hard and cuddles closer to Tommy.  He looks down to see that her eyes are glassy.  A tear escapes, and he wipes it.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"For what?" she asks.

"I know it's hard for you to talk about."

Kate shakes her head.  "Stop. It shouldn't - for God's sake you're his brother."

"And you're his best friend," Tommy points out.  "You didn't get the kind of reassurance I did afterward.  It's okay to be upset about it."

Kate's quiet for a long moment before she sighs again.  "I just want him to be okay, Tommy.  He deserves to be okay."

"I know."

He wipes another tear from her face, but soon there are too many.  Instead, he pushes the hair from her face and holds her while she cries.

_

8.

Steve hasn't said a word for a solid three minutes.  He's reclined in his desk chair, head resting in an open palm.  Wanda sits on the couch perpendicular to his desk with her legs crossed, entirely unsure what to do.  She has much to say, but when Steve is withdrawn like this, there isn't a point.  A sigh breathes itself from her lips, and Wanda leans back.

"No one can know about this," Steve whispers.

Wanda's head straightens up so fast she fears whiplash.  Her eyes grow as she stares at Steve.

"Steve - no one can know?  We're talking about the lives of three mutants, Steve.  If we keep this top secret, the likelihood that they'll be saved is - "

"Wanda, wait."

She doesn't realize she's stood up until her shins hit the coffee table.  She ignores the pain.  The clacking sound of her heels takes her across the room to Steve's desk.  He doesn't look at her.

"Wanda -  we're so close to finding an agreement.  Mutant support has never been so high."

Wanda opens her mouth to interject, but Steve holds up a hand.

"In Congress, that is.  If - if word of this gets out, there will be an uproar.  Scott Summers and Logan Howlett will be breaking down my door with demands, and the retaliation will set us back decades.  We're so close, Wanda.  This bill has to pass or we won't ever make a dent."

Wanda appreciates what Steve's saying, she really does.  But she also wants to give him a hearty kick in the balls.  She presses her fingers against the top of Steve's desk until they redden from the force.  She takes a deep breath.

"Steve, I was never ashamed to have lost to you.  In fact, I had always admired you.  You inspired me to press forward with my solo career, and though I never wanted this job, I took it because I respect you and I knew we would make a good team.  Do you remember why you offered me this job, Steve?"

He answers without thinking.  "I wanted your expertise."

Wanda nods.  "You wanted my expertise.  But on what, specifically?  On mutant rights.  I'm offering them right now, and you aren't even listening.  And, Steve?  I swear that sometimes you forget.  You forget that not only am I a woman forging my way in this hellhole, but I'm a mutant.  I don't believe in what my father did, but I won't ever back down from what I deserve.  This bill?  Honestly, it isn't going to change much.  A small amount of budget goes to research and to housing mutants on the streets.  Attacks on mutants will now be under the category of 'hate crimes', but nothing else is going to change.  This country is still going to be unsafe for mutants.  And you're going to risk the lives of three, very important mutants to throw us a half-eaten bone?  I respect you, Steve, I do, but someday I really hope that I'll get to work with the man who beat me."

She turns around without so much as a breath, and she doesn't look back.

_

9.

The front door unlocks with difficulty.  Lopsided footsteps find their way inside, and David dares to look up from his laptop.  He sighs as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  Loki's eyes and cheeks are red, and his hair is falling out of its bun.  He grunts as he struggles out of his coat, and it falls off the coat hook the moment Loki sets it there.  David's head gives a single throb.

"Where were you this time?" he asks.

"Where do you think?" Loki slurs.  "The bar."

David slams his laptop shut.  "I thought AA was supposed to help you?"

"It would if I . . . gave a shit."

Loki collapses on the couch adjacent to David.  Slumped backward, his shoulders envelope his head.

"Did you drive home?" David asks.

"I'm not that stupid," Loki huffs.  "Verity drove me."

David nods, jaw tight.  "I see."

Loki makes an irritated noise.  "Are you serious?  You're - you've got to be shitting me, right?"

David shakes his head.  He really wants to ignore Loki.  It would be a smart idea to ignore Loki.  "Is it not allowed to bother me?"

"No, it's not," Loki says.  "Because, you - you get so pissed when I bring up Teddy, and you know - I've never done anything with Verity.  She's a friend, David.  A friend who looks out for me."

David's head throbs again, and he rubs two angry fingers between his eyes.  "Yeah, and that bothers me, Loki.  That bothers me because you don't even give me a chance to look out for you, anymore.  You've just shut me out."

"I would let in you if - if you acted like you gave a fuck about me."

David bristles.  His throat tightens and his skin feels foreign.

"I've been here this whole time, Loki.  I've been here for everything.  I'm the one who staged the intervention, who called your brother and your father.  I'm the one who begged you to get sober.  I'm the one who took you to AA in the first place."

Loki snorts.  "Yeah, and that's where you met your fuck buddy, isn't it?"

"Loki, I swear to God - "

"Tell me, David - how am I supposed to get better when my boyfriend gives me such strong urges by fucking someone else?  How am I supposed to get better when my boyfriend just gives up on me?"

"That's it," David says, throwing the blanket off himself and collecting his laptop.  "You can stay on this couch tonight, asshole."

"Fuck you," Loki slurs.

He holds up a middle finger, but David just shakes his head at Loki's half-lidded eyes and continues his trek upstairs.  Their bedroom door slams, and Loki groans.  He rolls over, somehow trying to push himself up without the use of his arms.  Eventually laziness surrenders, and he musters up the energy to push himself into a sitting position.  His head rests crooked on his shoulders as he stares in front of him.  The coffee table is littered with papers, but the one on top catches Loki's eye.

It takes a minute, but curiosity wins.  With desperate hands, Loki grabs the paper.  He has to bring it close so his eyes can focus.  When they do, he reads, Thomas Jefferson Hospital at the top.

He reads further, and he doesn't quite understand the words until he's halfway down the page.  Only certain phrases jump out at him, just enough to make sense.

"Maximoff, Billy.  Male.  Twenty-six years."

" - slashed wrists, severe blood loss - "

" - seventy-two hour hold - "

" - recommended to the Psychiatric Rehabilitation Center - "

Sloppy hands reach into Loki's pocket and pull out his cell phones.  It takes him several tries to dial the number.  She picks up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Lorelei, it's Loki.  I think I have a story for you."

_

10.

"What do you suggest we do?"

Steve, Wanda, Tommy, and several other diplomats and ambassadors sit in a circle.  Wanda keeps a hand on Steve's knee.  They haven't properly spoken since she stormed out of his office, but this touch is enough.  She had forgiven him before he made the announcement, but she's glad her message had been received.

"I don't know," Steve answers, honestly.  "The major point is - well, they want me to go."

"What?" Wanda asks, not sure she heard right.

"They want me," Steve repeats.  "They want me to rescue our three journalists myself."

Immediately, a riot begins.  Wanda ignores everyone else and leans in closer to Steve.

"You never said anything - "

"I know," Steve says, and he holds up a hand.  "Alright, alright - everyone quiet down."

"Clearly that's not an option," Tommy speaks up.  "If they think we're going to send the President - "

"But if we don't - "

"It's a glaring trap - "

"Well, what else are we going to do?"

"We can't just let them die - "

"Excuse me," Steve tries to interrupt, but it's no use.  He sighs, brings his fingers up to his mouth, and whistles.  Everyone shuts up.

"We're not sending you," Wanda says immediately.  "We'll send someone close enough.  We'll send - we'll send me."

"No - " Tommy and Steve say at the same time.

"I can negotiate extraordinarily well," Wanda argues.

"Absolutely not," Steve replies, firm.

Beside Wanda, Tommy's phone gives an alert.  She turns to scold him, but she sees the look on his face.  His skin has gone as white as his hair, and he's not breathing normally.

"Tommy - "

He looks up, utterly stricken.

"They have it," he whispers.  "They have the story.  They printed it.  The story about Billy."

Wanda doesn't wait for anyone's reaction.  She gets up and allows her legs to lead her out of the room.  Her phone is in her office, and she can't reach it fast enough.  The hallways swim underneath her heels, but she races on.  The heavy doors that block her from her phone fall away, and she thinks her hearing might be going out.  There's a noise vibrating in her ears that sounds eerily similar to the ambulance sirens that took Billy away.

Her phone is in the left top drawer, and it crashes to the ground after Wanda's fingers pluck up her cell.  She presses Billy's name and holds the speaker up to her ear.  The line rings, and rings, and rings, and rings, and rings, and -

"You've reached Billy Maximoff.  I'm sorry I couldn't take your call - "

She hangs up and tries again.  Again.  Again. Agai -

The door to her office nearly flies off its hinges.  She hopes for either Tommy or Billy himself, but the person that walks through makes her blood boil.  Wanda lowers her phone slowly and sets it neatly on the desk.  David opens his mouth to talk, but Wanda holds up a hand, chest heaving with anger.

"I don't want to hear a single word - "

"I swear, Secretary, I didn't - "

"You don't know him."  Wanda trembles.  "You don't even know him.  You, and everyone like you has been feeding on Billy's illness for years.  You have put him down, time and time again, used his struggles with sobriety to fuel your awful careers, and it makes me sick.  You walk all over him like he's not - like he's not even a human being.  He's my son.  He's not your story.  He's not your ticket to a promotion.  He's still a child to me.  A child who grew up in an increasingly poisonous environment.  You weren't there then.  You didn't see him.  You didn't see him cry himself to sleep.  You didn't see him when he came out, against his will, to the greedy public that only wanted to slander my brother’s campaign.  You didn't see the way he shook in my arms and told me that he wanted to hurt himself because he thought he deserved it.  You weren't there.  You didn't see him fold under that pressure.  You didn't see him lose himself, and you most certainly did not find him on that bathroom floor, covered in his own blood.  You can't ever understand what he's been through, and I will not have you or anyone using him against himself anymore for your own gain.  Get out, David.  Goddamnit - get out!"

Wanda hurls a vase across the room, and David takes that as his cue to leave.  He hurries backward without another word.  The door hasn't even shut when Wanda drops to the ground, sobbing into her hands.

_

11.

The only light in the room comes from the television.  Billy stares it, eyes magnetized to the screen.  He takes another hearty swig of vodka, washing down another couple Ativan.  His hearing is starting to warp, but he's still able to make out what the announcer's saying.

" . . . rumors have since been confirmed.  William Maximoff, son of Secretary of State, Wanda Maximoff, and nephew of President Pietro Maximoff, was checked into Thomas Jefferson Hospital just six months ago after a failed suicide attempt.  Records show that William, known as Billy, had slashed his wrists, suffering severe amounts of blood loss.  At the hospital, Billy was given several blood transfusions and his cuts were sewn shut.  After an increase in physical health, Billy was then transferred to the hospital's Psychiatric Rehabilitation Center and treated for his mental health.  Correspondents from the recent engagement dinner of Thomas Maximoff and Kate Bishop reveal that Billy had been drinking heartily that night, and many can't help but wonder if he might be suffering a relapse - "

Billy's phone rings.  It's Tommy, for what must be the thirtieth time.  He knows his family must be losing their minds, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to talk to them, especially when he's likely to slur his words.  Guilt creeps its way into his stomach and its icy hand squeezes tight.  He presses Accept, and holds the phone to his ear.

"Billy?  Billy are you there?"

"I'm here," Billy sighs.

"I take it you've seen - "

"Yup."

"How - how are you?"

Billy sighs again.  "I'm fine, Tommy.  I knew this day would come eventually."

It's quiet for a moment.

"Are - are you, you know - safe?"

"Yes, Tommy, I'm safe.  I promise you.  Now quit worrying about me and get home to your fiancée."

"Billy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Tommy.  You're - you're a good brother."

"Thanks, Billy.  You are too.  Don't forget that.  I'll call you in the morning, okay?  You have a meeting tomorrow, right?"

Billy swallows hard.  "Yeah, I do."

"I hope it goes well."

"Thank you.  I'll talk to you tomorrow, Tommy.  Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Billy hangs up and immediately wraps his arms around himself.  It feels like his ribs have collapsed, and he can't breathe.  His head is spinning and he's terrified.  There is a strong, strong urge bubbling underneath the surface of his chest, and he knows he's going to give in if he doesn't do something.  His hands shake, and he struggles to dial the number.  He's never felt more relief in his life than when Teddy picks up the phone.

"Billy?  Oh, God.  I've been worried sick about you all day.  I tried calling a couple times, but I didn't want to push it."

"Yeah, I'm sorry.  I've been ignoring calls from pretty much everyone.  I don't know if I can handle what's on the other end."

"Billy?" Teddy asks, and his voice is quiet, calculated.  "Are you okay?"

Billy's lips are trembling, and he knows he's not.  "No," he whispers.  "Teddy, I need you to come get me."

"Billy?"

"I'm scared of myself right now," Billy breathes, then hiccups.  "I'm scared I'm not going to be safe."

"Where are you right now?"

"My apartment."

"What's around you?"

Billy doesn't need to ask what he means.  He's gone through this ritual so many times.  He takes a deep, stuttering breath.

"I'm holding a bottle of pills and there's an open bottle of vodka on the coffee table."

"How many pills did you take?"

"Just what I can handle."

"And what about the vodka?  How much have you had to drink?"

Billy winces, knowing what kind of shit he's going to have to face at the meeting tomorrow.  "Less than that."

"Alright, put the pills down and get somewhere safe.  I'm on my way."

"I'm going to meet you outside," Billy says.  "I'll meet you on the side of the road."

"Stay safe," Teddy says.  "I'll be right there."

Billy swallows hard again and nods to himself.  His whole body is shaking now.

"Come fast."

_

12.

Wanda doesn't even have time to hope her seat catches her after she gets off the phone with Tommy.  The adrenaline keeping her upright snaps, and she collapses.  It's late in the evening, and she's exhausted, but the only thing running through her mind is He's safe.  Tommy had gotten a hold of him, and Billy's safe.

The moon has risen from the glass panes behind her.  Only the low-burning lamp on her desk gives the room any light.  Wanda's shaking, and pink dances at her fingertips.  Inhaling a breath, Wanda picks up her phone.

As she soon as she hears the click of an answer, she talks.

"It's me.  I need to see you. Now."

_

13.

Billy's waiting on the curb when Teddy's car pulls up.  His leather jacket is twisted around his shoulders, and his feet are bare.  In hindsight, this wasn't the best attire for the rain shower, but he had needed to get out of that apartment.

Headlights blind Billy, but he stumbles upward.  Arms catch him when he veers backward, and all Billy knows is Teddy.  Just like that, with Teddy holding him upright, rain pouring down on them, and the headlights illuminating their silhouettes, Billy breaks down.

He hasn't cried this hard in months.  Not since - well not since that night.

He's wet, he's sobbing, and he reeks of alcohol, but the only thing Teddy does is hold him tighter and whisper, "It's okay, Billy.  Let it out.  It's okay.  You're going to be okay."

_

14.

Two guards assist Wanda as she walks to the motel door.  A few feet of rain dowse her hair, but it doesn't bother her.  She unlocks the door, still not breathing right.  It swings open with her key still in it, and Wanda looks up; just a reality check before she throws herself at her brother.

Pietro holds her with gentle hands.  "Is Billy okay?"

"He's safe," Wanda says, voice muffled by Pietro's sweater.  "I had just gotten off the phone with Tommy when I called you.  Billy answered."

"And he wouldn't lie to Tommy?" Pietro asks.  "Because he seems to have a talent for that."

"Not about something like this," Wanda reassures.

"I hope you're right."  Pietro sighs and gives his sister a squeeze.  "Come in, Wanda.  Make yourself at home.  I imagine we have a lot of things to talk about."

Wanda pulls away with a pout.  "You're unfortunately right."

_

15.

Billy melds into the couch, stuck in a fetal position.  A glass of water sits half-empty on the coffee table in front of him, drank begrudgingly after Teddy insisted he hydrate.  Now, a blanket is draped over his shoulders and dry clothes - including socks - and they're pulling him to sleep.  Teddy sits in the armchair next to him and admires the peace on his face.

He knew Billy was at his breaking point.  Everyone in AA could see it now, but what Teddy didn't know was how much it was going to hurt.  Teddy wishes that everything could be solved by a good night of sleep and the coffee that Teddy will make in the morning, but it won't ever be that easy.

A loud buzzing sounds erupts from the table, and Teddy looks to find Billy's phone lighting up.  The name says, "Big Bro" and after a split second of hesitance, Teddy picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey - is this -?  Who is this?"

"Um - this is Teddy Altman, Billy's sober partner," Teddy says and swallows hard.  "He asked me to get him from his apartment earlier, and he's spending the night with me.  I hope he isn't supposed to be somewhere."

"No, no it's fine.  Better for him, actually.  Um - I'm Tommy.  I'm his brother, which you probably knew.  I was just calling to check in."  Tommy heaves a deep breath after rushing through all of those words. He lowers his voice.  It's soft, keen.  "How is he?"

"He's just fallen asleep," Teddy says.  "He - well, he had a bit of a breakdown earlier, but afterwards I got some water in him.  He refused to eat, but he did take a couple of Tums."

"Good," Tommy says.  "He sounded kind of drunk on the phone, but - "

Teddy sighs.  "He was wasted.  I'm glad I picked him up."

"I'm glad you did, too," Tommy says.  "Thanks, Teddy.  I'll let you go now, but - keep me updated?"

"Of course."

"Goodnight, Teddy."

"'Night, Tommy."

He hangs up, and arm moving at a sloth-like pace, sets the phone back down on the coffee table.  Teddy stands up.  His bones crack, and his head drowns in oxygen.  Part of him wants to lie down with Billy, but the other part knows that this is probably the best night of sleep Billy's had in awhile, and he isn't going to ruin that.

_

16.

It's a long night, longer than Wanda would have expected.  She doesn't even know she's passed out until she wakes up with a blanket tucked around her, her blazer off and her shoes set up on the floor beside her.  Pietro's asleep in the opposite bed.  Wanda smiles as if he can see before closing her eyes again.

They both wake up in the early hours of morning.  Wanda's dress is crinkled, but Pietro's clothes are just fine, as he slept in his boxers.  They get dressed in silence, but neither of them can continue ignoring each other when they go to leave.

Pietro looks at his sister with curiosity, and - is that fear?   "Are we really doing this again, Wanda?"

"You can still back out if you want."

"No, no," Pietro says, waving a hand.  "I'm going to rescue those journalists no matter what - "

"Not that," Wanda says.  "You know what I mean."

Pietro's lungs pull in a deep breath.  He looks around the room just to avoid Wanda's eyes.  "I'm not going to back out.  After everything, this - we need to do this.  Whether this bill passes or not, mutants everywhere need us to do this."

"But you agree with the terms, Pietro?"  Wanda asks.  "This isn't going to end up like last time."

"No," Pietro asserts.  "I've followed far enough in Father's footsteps, but he was wrong.  That was the wrong way to go about things."

"Are you positive?"

Pietro steps towards his sister.  He lays his hands on her shoulders.  "You have my word, Wanda.  I've made my mistakes, but I'm loyal to you now."

"And you think we have a chance?"

"With you?" Pietro asks.  "Wanda, with you - I think we can do anything."

Wanda smiles, blush dusting her cheeks.  She hangs her head, and is slightly startled when her brother leans down to plant a kiss in her hair.  He pulls away, leaving a squeeze of her shoulders.

"You should go out first."

Wanda nods.  "I'll - I'll see you around, Pietro."

"I'll be around," Pietro replies.

She exits the motel room and her servicemen flank her.  Safe inside the cover of her car, Wanda stares out the window.  A hurricane of excitement and fear brews in her stomach.  She turns to her driver.

"I can trust you to keep a secret, I suppose."

He grins.  "Well, ma'am.  I am the Secret Service."

"Right," Wanda says.  She looks back out the window.  "I'm going to run for President again."

_

17.

Sunlight tickles Billy's eyelids.  He's cocooned in warmth, and the headache that throbs behind his head is minimal.  He opens his eyes and is momentarily confused.  The events of the previous night are choppy.  What he does remember is the rain and the headlights of Teddy's car and Teddy.  That's enough for him to put together the fact that he's in Teddy's apartment.

Billy hoists himself upward, feeling stiff and groggy.  The noises of someone moving around in the kitchen reach him, and Billy's stomach blossoms with comfortable heat.  He wraps the blanket from his lap around his shoulders and stands up.

In the kitchen, Teddy's nursing a cup of coffee and the day's paper.  He looks up when Billy shuffles through the doorway.

"Good morning," he says with a grin.

"Good morning," Billy replies, and he takes the seat opposite Teddy at the breakfast table.

"How are you feeling?" Teddy asks.

"Better than I expected.  Just a small headache."

Wood scratches against tile as Teddy stands up.  "Want some coffee?  I just made it."

Billy can smell it.  "Yes, please."

Teddy pours him a cup and sets it in front of him.  Billy wraps his hands around the mug, letting the warmth sink into his fingertips.  Satisfied, he takes a sip.

"God, this is good."  He heaves a small sigh and struggles looking Teddy in the eye.  "Listen, Teddy, I - "

He's interrupted by a knock.  They both look curiously out to the front door.  Teddy glances at Billy before standing up.  He's hesitant as he walks across his apartment, but both of them are relieved to see the person behind in the door.  It's Tommy, wearing a loose T-shirt and a solemn expression.   Billy's up before he even realizes it, rushing to meet his brother.  They throw themselves into a hug, and Billy fists the fabric of Tommy's shirt.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Tommy breathes.

"What are you doing here?" Billy asks as they pull apart.

"Mom's called everyone to a meeting."

"Everyone?" Billy asks, unsure why he's included in this.

"It's a family meeting," Tommy clarifies.

Billy turns his attention to Teddy.

"Thank you for everything, Teddy.  This - this meant the world to me - to know that I can count on you."

"Of course you can," Teddy replies.  "You're always welcome, Billy."

"I'll see you at AA, today."

Teddy smiles.  "See you then."

Billy follows Tommy out the door.  He realizes as they walk that the warm feeling in his stomach has seemed to have nestled itself there.

_

18.

David's blood pressure is pushing maximum limits when he storms into the office.  Just as Lorelei said, Loki's sitting behind his desk, still up to dress code in his wrinkled shirt and pants.  He's been missing for over a day now, and David is probably too eager to see him.  Too eager to slap him, more accurately.

When David steps inside the office, Loki has the nerve to grin.

"You son of a bitch," David hisses.

"Shame on you," Loki says.  "Frigga Odinson was a very lovely lady."

"You disgust me," David spits.  "You, out of all people, you print this story, and for what?  For kicks?  For publicity?  For the profit?"

"No, no," Loki argues.  "For revenge."

David blinks.

"Tell me, David," Loki continues, shifting his weight.  "How do the Maximoffs like you now?  Ooh - and Teddy.  If he cares about Billy as much as you think he does, I bet he just loves seeing your name in the credits."

David shakes his head.  Rage boils inside his veins.  All reservations melt away, and David steps up to Loki's desk.

"You know, Loki, there was some information you left out of that piece."

Loki looks at him with fear subdued in his eyes.

"You failed to mention that, ironically, you and Billy share some particular life events.  Like, did you mention that you and Billy go to the same AA group?  Did you mention the intervention that I organized, the one that was no doubt similar to the one Billy got in the hospital?"

"Stop," Loki says, voice quiet but eyes deadly.

"Did you mention the alcohol poisoning?  Did you mention the scars on your arms, Loki?"

"David, stop."

"Did you mention the fact that last year, in a fit of guilt and self-hatred, you jumped off a bridge?  Did you mention how you were without oxygen for too long and that you spent months battling hallucinations that drove you crazy and went to speech therapy?  Did you mention any of that?"

Loki tries to put up a front, but he's trembling.  "David, you wouldn't dare."

David straightens up after realizing the way he's towering over Loki.  "No, you're right," he says, calm.  "I wouldn't, because I, unlike you, am a decent human being."

Loki flies upward without another word and hurries out the door.  Before it shuts, David takes the opportunity to yell, "We're done, Loki!  Now you can fuck Verity in peace!"

His now ex-boyfriend hides in the bathroom, and no doubt locks the door behind him.  David will have to get a security  guard to get him out later, but he's too exhausted right now.  Just as he lowers himself into his chair, his phone rings.  David answers without looking at the name.

"Hello?  Who is this?"                                                                                                              

"David, this is Wanda Maximoff.  I need to meet with you right away."

 


	2. Episode 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: talk of past suicide attempt (3), alcohol consumption (5, 9, 11, 16, 18), suicidal ideation (5, 6, 16), sexual harassment (13), mutant racism (15), drug abuse (16), talk of a completed suicide (17)
> 
> Please take care of yourself, lovelies!

1.

**four years prior//**

Wanda stands behind the heavy oak door, twisting her fingers together.  Pietro's shouting through her, sending ice into her bones and her lungs.  Her heart feels swollen inside her throat, thumping in a misplaced rhythm.  She counts to three, and then pushes her way inside.

"So you can tell Scott Dakei that he can shove it up his hairy - "

The clack of Wanda's shoes stop Pietro, and he looks up.  He sits at his desk with the phone cord wrapped around his arm and torso.  He'd been speed-pacing again.

"Tell Scott Dakei that he can stop kissing my ass any time because I know that he's a lying, thieving, bigoted piece of shit.  Thanks."

He hangs up the phone with gentle fingers, completely ignoring the fact that he's stuck in the cord.  "I'm sorry," he coughs.  He's been avoiding Wanda's gaze thus far, but a sneaking glance allows him to see the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Wanda?" he asks, stricken.  He stands up, nearly knocking his chair over and rushes to her side, the phone trailing behind him, crashing against the floor.

"Please tell me it isn't true," Wanda whispers.

Pietro blinks.  "What are you talking about?"

Wanda crosses her arms.  "I'm not an idiot.  I read the papers, Pietro."

He attempts to keep up the act, but Wanda can see the panic rising in his eyes.  A small part of her burns.  She knows it's wrong to use her powers to manipulate her brother, but she still tries.

"Wanda," Pietro pleads.  "Wanda, whatever you read - "

"I read that you gave my research to Scott Summers and Logan Howlett, that's what I read.  It wouldn't be too far-fetched considering all the secret meetings you've been having with them."

Pietro hangs his head.  Wanda inhales sharply and closes her eyes.

"Wanda look at me," Pietro says.

She shakes her head.  Her heart has dropped, and she feels like she's going to throw up.

"Wanda."

Pietro takes an awkward step toward her, the phone scraping against the ground.  He lays two soft hands on her shoulders, and despite herself, Wanda doesn't flinch away.

"Wanda, whatever you read - it's not true.  I know rumors are cropping up all over the place.  They have been since Logan let it slip that we were working together on some sort of project, but Wanda - Wanda, please - do you really think I would do that to you?  Your brother?  Your twin brother?  After everything we've been through?"

Wanda opens her eyes.  Tears run eager down her cheeks.  "Pietro, I don't - "

"I do.  Wanda, you have to believe me."

She shakes her head, mouth trembling.  A breath turns into a hiccup, and Pietro wraps his arms around her.  He pulls her close, and she rests her head against his shoulder, her cries soft.  Pietro rubs his hand in circular motions on her back.

"You have to believe me."

_

2.

"Wanda, we're talking about William Stryker, notorious, bible-banging, mutant-hater William Stryker.  And you want to send your mutant brother to meet with him?"

Wanda sighs and drops to the couch.  "You and I both know that Pietro can be very persuasive - even moreso than me at times, and I'm the one with reality-warping powers."

Steve rubs at his eyes.  "Wanda - I'm not even worried that Pietro might not come to an agreement with Stryker.  I'm worried about his well-being."

Wanda scoffs and crosses her legs.  "William Stryker might have political power, but he's human, and his guards are human.  If Pietro needs a quick escape, he can do it, and he won't leave without at least trying to rescue the mutants anyway.  Plus, we'll have super-human protection.  You're sending Agent Barnes with us, are you not?"

Steve nods, and says almost sourly, "He wouldn't allow this mission to proceed without him."

Wanda's lips press together to hide a grin.  "Still not used to being on the other end?"

Steve glares at her.  After a  moment, the anger fizzles and he sighs.  "You have to teach me how on earth you became so calm and collected with Pietro's self-destructive and self-sacrificing behavior.  Bucky's going to turn me gray."

Wanda stands up.  "Is this a deal then, Steve?  We're sending Pietro?"

Steve nods.  "He truly is our best bet, unfortunately.  Though I still wish you would let me go."

Wanda shakes her head.  "That's the most obvious trap I've seen in decades.  We might have good security, but they have something prepared to take you down, and we can't risk that.  Pietro's always been able to outsmart the enemy - mostly given his morally ambiguous nature.  He can handle this."

"I really hope so," Steve breathes.  "You have him ready tomorrow morning, Wanda.  We need this mission to go as smoothly as possible."  He looks at her, and his eyes are shining with an anxiety Wanda's never seen before.  "Please, please make sure he behaves."

Wanda smiles.  "You have my word, Steve."

She turns on her heel and exits the room, her stomach boiling with both apprehension and excitement.  This is a dangerous situation, but naturally, that's why she's chosen her brother to approach it.

Tommy is waiting for her in the hall.  He's holding a clipboard in one arm, and his cell phone in the other.  Wanda doesn't miss the way his hair is haphazardly gelled, or the fact that his glasses sit crooked on his nose.

"The location is set.  A secure zone in New York.  President Rogers will receive the confirmation in a minute or so.  Figured I should tell you."  He scribbles on his clipboard and doesn't even look at his mother as they fall into stride.

"Good, good."

Tommy sighs.  "Mom, listen - about what you told us.  I don't know - "

"Do we have confirmation of security yet?  Agent Barnes is on board, correct?"

"I - yes," Tommy stutters.  "He hasn't formulated his full team yet, but he's given reassurance that he's searching for the most loyal and capable men."

"Good."  They round a corner, and Wanda sees her office approaching.  "You're picking Billy up from his AA meeting, right?"

"Yes," Tommy says.  "And about that, Mom - in light of your decision - "

"Tommy, I'm sorry," Wanda interrupts, "but I have to go meet with your uncle to discuss some final things about this rescue mission.  Send your brother my love, okay?"

Tommy's jaw tightens.  "Of course."

Wanda leans over and kisses him on the cheek.  "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

_

3.

The lights in the basement are usually pretty dim, but today they seem abnormally bright.  Billy winces and looks down at the floor, but the obnoxious geometric pattern only further nauseates him.  Instead, he decides to look at the person speaking.  The words don't really make sense, but at least looking at the person's face doesn't make him want to throw up.

Teddy shifts in his seat across the circle and Billy sees that out of the corner of his eye, Teddy is watching him.  They didn't have time to talk because Billy showed up late.  He was fine this morning when they were drinking coffee, but then his mother had told everyone she was running again, and everyone at AA knows that he tried to kill himself and Teddy isn't the only one looking at him weird, and Billy is so stressed he's making himself sick, and he wants to curl into a ball and sleep for approximately a year.

"Any idea where Loki is today?" Sam asks.

Billy looks around with an absent gaze.  The only person he really cares about seeing weekly is Teddy, but Loki's flirted with him a couple times and Billy has tossed around the idea of hooking up with him on occasion.

After a general negative murmur, Sam asks, "Would anyone else like to go?  Billy?"

Billy blinks, completely taken aback.  "Uh - "

"Remember we're not here to judge."

Billy huffs, throwing his head back and then snapping it forward.  "Okay, okay - I get it.  You want me to talk about the suicide attempt, alright."  He sits up straighter and folds his hands together in his lap.  "It was six months ago.  At the time, I was training with Doctor Stephen Strange.  My powers settled in when I hit puberty, but I'd never done much to develop them.  While I was training with Strange, there was an accident - "  Billy's throat constricts and he finds it difficult to draw air.  He inhales a shaky breath and runs his hands through his hair.  "Um - I - well, my powers - something went wrong with them, and I - I almost killed several civilians.  After that, I don't even know - it was like that's all I could see when I closed my eyes and I couldn't let it go.  I'd already had problems with drugs and alcohol in the past when I dealt with a lot of internal homophobia, and I just lost it.  Eventually it became too much and I locked myself in the bathroom at my mom's place on Christmas Eve and slit my wrists."

Several people shift their gaze downward.  The oxygen in the room freezes, and no one breathes until Billy breaks the silence.

"So now you know," he chokes.

"Thank you, Billy.  How are you today?"

He leans back in his chair and rubs his hands over his face.  "I'm - I'm fine."

"Really?"

He falls forward and puts his head in his hands.  After vibrating air through his lips, he says, "I'm hungover as hell.  I called Teddy when I was too wasted to function, so that was pretty pointless on a sobriety level.  And well - things aren't getting any easier with my family, so I imagine I'm going to keep fucking up."

"I know it's hard, Billy," Sam says, "but you can't think like that.  You're already setting yourself up for failure if you resign now."

Billy doesn't answer.  He doesn't have the energy.  He looks down and rubs his thumb over the jagged scar on his wrist.

"Next?" Sam asks.

_

4.

David rips open the top drawer of Loki's desk.  The insides slam around.  David hauls them out and throws them without looking into the cardboard box on top of Loki's desk.  His assistant winces, but David doesn't care.  This is therapeutic.

Loki hasn't shown up to work since he locked himself in the bathroom, which was a disaster in itself.  After three solid hours, security had to bust the door open.  Loki had been curled up on top of one of the toilets and was completely unresponsive.  David probably should have been worried, but he was still pissed.

After failing to show up to pay for his actions, Loki's been fired, and now David is eagerly cleaning out his office.

"Uh - David," his assistant says.  "Don't forget your meeting at - "

"I know."

"And a reminder that Madam Secretary expects you tomorrow morning at - "

"Got it."

"And also - Loki called.  He apologized... again."

"You can tell his hypocritical, psychotic ass to stop pining after me because I'm never going to speak to him again."

"Do I - do I have to add in all of that extra stuff?"

David only spares him an irritated glance before picking up the box of Loki's stuff and heading out of the room.

_

5.

The lights are off, but the television's on.  Loki lies on his side, arm hanging off the couch with a bottle dangling from his fingertips.  The sweat and stink are building up on his skin, but he can't bring himself to get up to shower.  Verity will probably kick him out.  Whatever.  He's amazed she's let him stay this long, drinking all her booze and smelling up her living room.

He hasn't been this bad in months.  But then he printed that stupid article and ruined Billy Maximoff's life and David had to point it all out and bring back all the memories that Loki's been trying to suppress, and basically he could really use a bullet to the head right now.

He thought about going to AA today, but there was no way he could face Billy.  His name wasn't connected to the article in any way, but he could not stomach sitting in that room, probably listening to Billy talk about it all while Loki remained without blame.

Loki drops the bottle to the floor and rolls over.

He's such an idiot.

David may or not have had a real thing with Teddy on the side, but there's no way Loki can deny the way he's caught himself looking at Billy.  There's no way he can deny the jump in chest or the flopping in his stomach.  David started out as a fuck buddy.  Loki opened up just enough to let him in, but they were never going to last.  Loki only knows Billy inside AA, but what he feels is more than he's ever felt with David, and it scares the shit out of him.

So naturally he had to ruin Billy's life, because Loki doesn't do feelings.

(Except he really does, and that's why he's been drinking for almost two days straight and contemplating every suicide method in the book.)

The lock to the front door shifts.  Loki doesn't move.  Footsteps creep inside, and the rustle of a coat being hung up is so quiet Loki can barely hear it.  Socked feet pad across the floorboards.  Despite all of his anxiety, Verity doesn't yell at Loki; she sinks into the couch at his feet.

"Oh, Loki."

He shifts his head a bit to look at her.

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep at it like this."

He doesn't speak for a long while.

"Maybe I want to."

Verity presses her lips together, and she doesn't even blink at the tears in her eyes.  "Loki - "

He sighs heavily.  "Whatever I try won't work, so it doesn't even matter.  I'm not going to try.  When you survive jumping off a bridge - well, it seems pretty pointless to try again."

"Loki," Verity says, slow.  "I'm going to call your brother."

He sits up so fast he nearly blacks out.   "Verity, no - "

"What else can I do?"

"Give me a chance to sober up," Loki hiccups.  "I will - and I'll - I'll go back to AA.  I'll schedule private sessions with Sam, okay?  Just, please - don't bring Thor into this.  He doesn't need that kind of burden."

"You're not - "

Loki rolls his eyes.  "Okay, okay - I'm not.  Whatever.  Point is - Thor's got a lot on his plate right now.  I'll be okay.  I promise, Verity."

She looks at him for a long moment, eyes shimmering.  "Okay.  Okay.  Sober up, then."

She takes the half-empty bottle from the floor and brings it with her into the kitchen.  Loki falls back onto the couch, hands behind his head, and wonders how the hell he's going to stop drinking.

_

6.

Billy's waiting on the splintered, wooden bench outside the building when Teddy finds him.  He wouldn't mind Teddy joining him, but Teddy stands off to the side, hands in his pockets.  It's abnormally chilly today, and both of them squint at the sun.

"Do you - do you by chance need a ride?" he asks.

Billy shakes his head.  "Tommy's picking me up."

Teddy nods.  "What - uh - what did your mom have to say?"

Billy swallows hard but forces himself to keep his eyes open through the flash of panic.  "Nothing important.  It was - it was more of a check-in, really."  He coughs and looks down into his lap.  "Everyone was just worried about me."

"Good," Teddy says.  "Good, I'm glad."  He coughs, too.  "How - how are you then, Billy?  Tell me the truth."

Billy licks his lips.  His body slumps forward, elbows catching on his knees.  "I'm so anxious," he breathes.  "More anxious than I've ever been in my life."

He doesn't know whether he intends to continue or elaborate, but the sound of squelching tires lifts his head up.  He's never been more grateful to see Tommy's car.  He just wants to disappear back in the confines of his apartment and sleep for maybe three, four, maybe thirty hours.

"That's Tommy," Billy sighs as he stands up.  He doesn't even look at Teddy.  "I'll text you later."

"Take it easy, Billy."

He jogs the last few yards to Tommy's car, pulls open the door and clambers inside with a heavy breath that sinks him into the seat.

"How was it?" Tommy asks, though his tone suggests that he already knows.

"They're just as a greedy and curious as the rest of the world," Billy mutters.  He taps his fingers against the worn-down jeans covering his thighs.  Tommy pulls away from the curb, and the contents of Billy's stomach slosh around inside him.

"Billy - " Tommy interjects.

"I mean - I knew eventually, at some point, that this story would come out, but now that it has - I don't - I don't know.  Even when I'm this down and out, the world still hates me, Tommy.   Even here - everyone wants the dirt.  People want to put me down.  For the past twenty-four hours all I've been hearing is 'selfish', 'crazy', 'psychotic', 'shame', 'coward.'  Not to mention how many people actually wish I would have succeeded - including me."

The wheels scream against the asphalt, and Tommy and Billy are jerked forward as the car comes to a halt.

"What the hell - " Billy hisses.  He whips his head to look at his brother, but is startled find tears in Tommy's eyes.

"Billy," he whispers.  "Fuck - you can't - "  He closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath.  "Listen, I know things are shitty right now, and I don't know if you just said that for the hell of it, but I can't lose you, man.  You're all I have - "

"Kate?" Billy points out.

Tommy shakes his head.  "We're brothers, Billy.  We grew up together.  And God - remember when I was the troubled one?  When my powers set in and Mom had to bail me out of juvie?  And then everyone heard about juvie and I decided I wanted to become some brooding punk?  It was fine for awhile until I got serious and you had to talk sense into me."

"We were thirteen."  Billy brushes it off.

"Doesn't matter," Tommy argues.  "You were still there for me.  And I'm here for you.  And I - Billy, I don't want to trivialize what you went through or make you feel guilty, but when Mom - when she called me and told me what happened, that you tried kill yourself, I felt like I was dying.  And you don't - you don't know, but I was vibrating for days on end, unable to control myself because I was just - I was out of my mind.  I abused sleeping pills for awhile to calm myself down."

Billy bristles, out of shock more than anything.  His throat closes, and he has to swallow against the bile building up.

"Tommy, I'm - I'm so sorry - "

"You don't need to apologize," Tommy says.  "Just please - don't be afraid to come to me, Billy.  You're so fucking important to me, and I love you."

"I love you, too, Tommy."

Without warning, Billy throws himself awkwardly at his brother and hugs him tight.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all that shit."

Tommy shushes him, maybe a little too harsh.  "The world was putting you through shit; I can't blame you for that.  But you're not going through all of it alone."

"Thank you," Billy whispers, pulling back.  "Thank you, Tommy."

_

7.

The rumble of the plane's engines sends waves through Wanda's body.  She steps aboard feeling heavy and molten.  Voices are stirring inside, and Pietro's floats above them all.  His usual, unique brand of charm - if that's the right word - is filling up the cabin, and part of Wanda wants to puke, the other part feels a surge of nostalgia.

"Pietro," she hisses as soon as she's close enough.

He looks up and smiles when he meets her eye.  "Excuse me," he says to the people around him.  "Please, excuse me."  He trips on his way over to her, and that's when Wanda' notices his hands shaking too fast for it to be dehydration.

"Nervous?" she asks with a smirk.

"Of course not," Pietro scoffs, holding his hands together behind his back.

"I trust you've got yourself up to speed on this procedure."

Pietro nods.  "Who do you think I am, dear sister?"

Wanda's smirk grows.  "All I'm saying is that President Rogers is extremely concerned about you."

Pietro rolls his eyes.  "Nerves are nothing, Wanda.  Persuasion is what I'm best at, and we all know that."

"Breaking three mutants out of execution is different than picking up women, Pietro."

He blushes, glancing back at the girls he had left behind.  "Wanda, I promise.  I won't screw this up."

Wanda swallows a laugh.  "I trust you," she says, but her tone is almost mocking.  Pietro narrows his eyes.  She turns on her heel, saying over her shoulder, "Stay safe, little brother."

As she walks away, she nearly collides with David Alleyne.

"Excuse me, Madam Secretary," he mumbles, looking down.

"Excuse me," Wanda says.  She's barely turned forty-five degrees before David speaks again.

"Madam Secretary?"

She turns back.  "Yes?"

"Thank you - for this opportunity," David says.  "It - it means a lot.  And I stand by my promise, Madam.  I had - I had no idea.  And, and the person who approved the article has been fired."

"Good to hear," Wanda says.  "And don't thank me until you've gotten the story."  

Something flashes in her eyes, but she disguises it as a wink before letting herself off the plane.

_

8.

With a grunt, Erik stacks yet another box on top of the two already straining Billy's arms.  "That should be it."  Billy follows after him, and it's only Erik's voice that keeps him moving in the right direction.  He takes it slowly on the stairs, but he's not moving much slower than Erik so it's fine.

"Set 'em down here," Erik says, hitting the top of the piano.

Billy carefully lowers the boxes.  "What exactly are we doing?"

"Preparing for an engagement party," Erik replies.

Billy has to hold in a groan.  "I know that, Granddad, but I mean - specifically.  All of this shit looks like junk. Why would Tommy and Kate need any of it?"

"You misunderstand me," Erik says, now rifling through the first box.  "What we're looking for is entertainment.  Now, you and your mother can do those magic tricks with your glowing hands and spell-casting, but let me tell you - I've got something up my sleeve.  A-ha!"

Erik's hand clasps around something at the bottom of the box and he pulls out a fist full of -

"Are those marbles?" Billy asks.

Erik doesn't answer.  He's too focused on making the small, metallic balls levitate.

"See that, son?"

Billy smirks.  "I see, Granddad."

"I used to be able to stop bullets in mid-air," Erik whispers, eyes lighting up as he watches the movement of the balls quicken.  "Haven't tried that in decades, and your mother won't let me try for the engagement party."

"She's just worried," Billy says.

Erik scoffs.  "Don't tell her this - but she's much too soft.  Maybe we can get her to lighten up at the party, eh?"

Billy forces himself not to laugh.

"Speaking of lightening up," Erik mutters, "make yourself useful, Billy, and get me a drink."

"Of course," Billy says, the smirk still plastered on his face as he walks back to the kitchen.

_

9.

The movement of his thumb across the screen is automatic now.  David bites his lip as he surveys the five missed calls from Verity.  She's left two voicemails, but David knows he won't be able to stomach answering them.  Either she's going to bitch him out for being a jerk, or she's going to be calling for help with Loki.  David's been in her place before, but he's never been the fuel for Loki's self-destruction.

Guilt boils his insides, and David holds his thumb over the 'play' icon underneath Verity's voicemail.  He's saved from it when a security guard taps him on the shoulder.  He jumps, phone nearly slipping from his grasp, but he manages to hang on and stow it away in his pocket.

"Yes?"

"President Maximoff requests your company."

David swallows hard.  He'd been fearing this: the ultimate showdown, Pietro ripping him to pieces over his Pulitzer just like his sister did, but more threatening.

"H - happy to oblige," David says, and he follows the security guard to Pietro's private compartment.

His suit jacket is off, slung over the back of his chair, the top button of his shirt undone, and his tie loosened, crooked.  His normally pristine hair has been mussed and now stands at odd directions.  In front of him is a glass of liquor.

"Take a seat," he says with a smirk, and David does.  It's a comfortable seat, but every inch of David wants to jump out of it.  Pietro regards him with a soft sip of liquor.  "Here you are at last - the man who destroyed my family with one little article.  Fun for you though, wasn't it?"

David sighs, eyes falling to his lap.  "Look, President Maximoff - "

"I hear they call you 'Prodigy' in the world of journalism," Pietro snorts and takes another sip.  "Oh - excuse my lack of manners.  Would you like some scotch, David?"

His phone feels like a slab of lead in his pocket.  "Yes, please."

Pietro looks up, catching the eyes of the security guard.  "Can you call for something?"  The security guard nods.

"Um - President Maximoff," David tries again.  "I didn't - I swear I didn't know anything about that article with your nephew - "

"Relax, David," Pietro drawls.  "Wanda's already told me, and she reassures me that I can trust you to a certain extent.  And Billy's fine, thanks for asking."  Pietro blinks and his eyebrows crease.  "Well, not fine - but as fine as Billy can be in these types of situations.  He's a recovering alcoholic.  Relapses have been known to happen."

David nods once.  "My, uh - my ex-boyfriend was a recovering alcoholic.  I think he and your nephew went to the same group, actually."

Pietro hums.

The following awkward silence is filled with the arrival of David's scotch.  He downs the first sip eagerly.

"So, Prodigy," Pietro says, and his next few words are mottled by a laugh.  "How's your article coming?"

David looks up at him, uncertainty clear in every pore of his face.  "It's - well, I think it's going well.  And this - this mission will wrap it up nicely.  I'm - I'm very grateful for this opportunity."

"That's good, considering our original agreement went void with that article being printed.  I trust Wanda, though.  I know she has a good reason to have you aboard."

"I assume it's for the mutant rights," David offers.  "I mean, not only am I a journalist, but I'm a mutant."

"Ahh, that's right," Pietro says, nodding.  His eyes meet David's.  "What's your power, again?"

David coughs.  "Telepathy - specifically, absorbing knowledge."

"Oh, god - telepathy," Pietro mutters.  "I better keep you away from my father."

"I met him, already."  David smirks and swirls the contents of his glass around.  "He made it very clear how he feels about me."

"And that would be?" Pietro asks, nerves on the edge of his voice.

"I am, and I quote 'a disgrace to the name of mutant.'"

Pietro laughs.  "Sounds like my father, alright.  Such an extremist about everything."

"At least he's not William Stryker," David says.

Pietro looks up at him with wide, irritated eyes.  "At least.  Oh, I'm terribly excited to meet him," he adds, sarcastic.

"I couldn't do it if I were you," David says.  "I wouldn't be able to hold myself back."

"Wanda's trained me well," Pietro admits.  "Plus - three mutants lives' are on the line.  I'll have to strike with my words, unfortunately."

David laughs.  "Honestly, I have the utmost faith in you, sir."

Pietro smiles, bringing his scotch up to his lips.  "Thank you."  The words are as genuine as he's ever uttered them.

_

10.

Wanda's red, glistening nails tap out a nervous rhythm on her desk.  With a huff of breath, she stands up and begins walking around the room without any sense of purpose or destination in her mind.  Her feet do all the work.

"Mom?" Tommy asks.

"I spoke with Barnes just minutes ago, I know," she replies.  "They're fine.  I know they're fine, but I won't be able to rest until Pietro and those mutants are back in the hangar.  The nerves are eating me alive."

"Mom, sit down," Tommy urges.

Wanda looks back at him with oblique eyes.  "You talked to your brother today, right?  How's he doing?"

"I don't - " Tommy sighs.  "He's safe, but - "

"Good," Wanda says and she nods to herself.  "Ugh - I can't have the family scattered like this.  I think I'm going to ask Billy to move back in with me for awhile."

"He wouldn't go for that, Mom."

Silence.

"Hey - Mom, I'm serious.  Please, sit down.  I want to talk to you."

"Honey, if it's not about this mission or how I'm going to convince your brother to move back home, I can't listen.  I'm too on edge."

"No, Mom - this is about - "

They're interrupted by a knock on her office door, followed by the entrance of Vice President Danvers.

"Madam Secretary, Agent Barnes is on the line.  There's been a problem with the location."

"What kind of problem?" Wanda asks, walking towards her.

"Stryker won't be able to meet in our original location.  He's currently in Mexico, and won't make it to New York in time."

Momentarily, Wanda's brain feels like it might explode.  After all of this careful planning, Stryker decides to catch them off guard and shake them.

"Let me guess," Wanda sighs, "he wants to meet somewhere to his advantage?"

Carol nods.  "Purifier Base 607."

"No, no," Wanda says.  "We're meeting somewhere neutral.  Get Stark on the line."

Carol frowns.  "We've already tried him, ma'am.  He's unreachable."

Wanda looks back at Tommy.  "Come with me."

His eyebrows raise above his glasses.  "Where are we going?"

"We're going to pay someone special a visit," is all Wanda gives him.

_

11.

Erik's managed to throw back three drinks now, and Billy plays the piano, hunched forward and resting his head in one hand while the other strikes the keys.  Erik hums along to the melody Billy is certain he doesn't know.  His eyes are closed and his lips are upturned into one of his rare smiles.  Billy finds himself smiling too.  It's been so hectic lately, and honestly, he's missed Erik.

Billy plays a final chord and looks up as Erik continues to sway to the melody resounding in his mind.  The marbles are still in his hands, and now Erik moves them into space, swirling around his head in a waltzing motion.  Billy watches with a tug in his chest.

"Granddad."

"Hmm, Billy?"

"You've really inspired me today."

Erik laughs and the marbles fall into his open hand.  "What do you want from me?"

Billy sits up.  "Nothing - I'm being serious.  Watching you get in touch with your powers makes me want to do the same, and do it right.  I hate suppressing them."

Erik smiles.  "That's the way to think, Billy.  You were given gifts.  You should use them."

"You're absolutely right," Billy says, nodding.  "And hey - maybe you could talk to Mom and tell her what you think?  Maybe you could get her on board with me going back to Doctor Strange."

Erik laughs again, but it's different this time.  It's booming, and almost mocking.

"Billy, you kill me.  There's no way in Hell I'd do that."

Billy blinks.  "Wait - what?"

"You going back to Strange is a terrible idea," Erik says, and takes a sip of his drink.  "That place was poison, and I mean - look at you."

"Yeah, look at me.  I'm fine," Billy argues.  "That article came out, and - "

"And you're drinking and popping pills."

Billy's eyes widen, and he feels his stomach sink.  "How did you know?"

"Please, Billy," Erik sighs.  "Don't think I can't hear your pockets rattle.  Everyone else may ignore it, but I don't.  I've been around enough of this to know when you're high and when you're sober, and you've been too much of the former lately."

"Granddad - "

"You're never going to have my support when it comes to this."

Billy swallows hard.  A shiver cracks up his spine, and he feels the urge to down a handful of pills, naturally.  He doesn't.  He sits still and watches with disgust as his grandfather rounds off his drink.

_

12.

David and Pietro are laughing heartily at his spot-on impression of Graydon Creed when an agent enters the compartment, an open laptop standing up in his hands.

"Mr. President."

"Yes?" he asks, wiping a tear from his eye.

"You have a message from Madam Secretary."  The agent sets down the laptop in front of him and on the screen is Wanda, harried and overworked.

"Hello, Pietro," she says, and there's a large hint of annoyance in her voice.  "There has been . . . a change of plans."

He sits up straight, leaving nonsense behind and putting his mind on the mission.  "What happened, Wanda?"

"Stryker has changed the location."

"To his advantage?" Pietro guesses.

Wanda nods.  "But we're going somewhere neutral.  I'm on my way now to finalize the change."

"Where are we meeting?" Pietro asks.

Wanda sighs heavily.  "Oscorp Industries."

_

13.

Norman Osborne lounges with ease in his almost entirely white office, legs up on his desk.  A guard leads Wanda and Tommy inside.  Just the sight of him makes her skin crawl.  She forces herself to remember that three lives are depending on her negotiation skills and puts on a brave face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Osborne."

"Please," he says with a crooked smile.  He kicks his feet down and stands up.  "Call me Norman."

He offers a hand and Wanda shakes it, ignoring when he holds her fingers longer than necessary.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Madam Secretary?"

"We need to use a private Oscorp base for a high security mission."

Osborne hums as he stows his hands in his pockets and looks Wanda up and down.  "What are you offering me?"

Wanda hands him a sealed letter.  He takes it and without opening it or glancing at it at all, puts in the breast pocket of his suit coat.  Wanda swallows.

"I don't really care what that says," he murmurs.  "There's only one thing I really need to make this deal."

"What is it?" Wanda sighs.

"Go out to dinner with me."

Wanda pinches the bridge of her nose, fully aware of the headache that has started brewing behind her eyes.  It really is a mystery how long she's lasted in this career, and even more bizarre that she's throwing herself back in such a competitive and sexist ring running for President.

"Let me get this straight," Wanda says.  "You're going to risk three lives to try and get me to go on a date with you?"

"You're going to risk three lives by trying to deny me?"

Wanda pukes a little in her mouth.  "Fine.  I'll go to dinner with you."

"The Missouri base is all yours," Osborne replies.

Wanda doesn't even thank him.  She turns curtly and leaves the room without another word, Tommy following behind her.  She fumes as they're let out and as soon as they exit it the building she gives a shiver of disgust.

"Ugh - I can't believe I just pimped myself out to Norman Osborne for this.  I am not - absolutely  not - going to be doing this as President.  Men will either make deals with me as actual men, or they can back out like the sleazeballs they are."

"Mom - " Tommy interjects.

"God, I really don't know what I'm thinking doing this."

"Me neither," Tommy says with force as they reach the car.  He rounds on his mother and bears down.  "For God's sake, Mother, would you just let me talk?"

Wanda takes a step back, unsure.  "Tommy - "

"You didn't even give any of us a chance to talk," he continues, spitting his words out.  "You just told us what was happening and we're just going to have to sit back and take all of it?  Mom, do you really think our family is ready for this?"

Wanda straightens up.  "Thomas, I really don't think - "

"Do you think Billy's ready for this?  Let me tell you - he's not.  He can't even handle what's going on now.  He's drinking and popping a bottle of pills a day being here just for the engagement.  He's suicidal again, Mom, and you're barreling all of us back into this shitty environment.  And Pietro?  Really?  Are you really going to trust him again?  He was the one who threw this family into shit.  I know how fucked up politics can be, but honestly?  Are the two of you really going to sacrifice this family again for your careers?"

Tommy's left heaving, his face red and his muscles taut.  Wanda stares down at him for a moment, eyes steely.

"Thomas," she says shortly.  "Get in the car and hold your tongue.  You've crossed the line and I'm not discussing this any further."

He listens, and she's grateful.  Everything her son has just said has been continuously running through her mind since she made the decision, but if she let any of that get to her, this country would be in shambles, and mutantkind would be lost.  Sacrifices have to be made.

_

14.

**four years prior//**

Wanda sits with her leg pulled up, fingers shaking as she buckles the straps on her Mary Jane high heels.  She can't stand it anymore.  The comments on the television, the stories in the newspapers, the people who keep calling her and asking her if it's true.  She can't take the way it's tearing her family apart.  Billy can't stop drinking and Tommy hasn't slept in three days.  She's going to put an end to it.

She stands up and dusts of her skirt.  Her lungs pull in a deep breath, and she exhales slowly.  There's not a lot of confidence burning inside her but she holds onto what she can.  The authoritative sound of her footsteps keeps her moving - that is until her brother stops her in the doorway.

"Wanda, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to tell that journalist to stop ruining our lives with his lies."  She pushes past her brother, but he catches her wrist so gently that she's startled.  She freezes, turning back to look at him.

"Wanda - "

"What, Pietro?"

"He's not lying."

Wanda pulls her wrist free.  "What - what are you talking about, Pietro? Of course he is.  He's - he's saying that you took my research, that - that you and Logan and Scott are forming a political campaign, that - that you're going in front of Congress, and you're - you're - Pietro?"

Pietro swallows hard and looks her straight in the eye.  "He's not lying."

Wanda shakes her head.  "No, no.  You wouldn't - you wouldn't do that.  You're my brother.  You wouldn't take my research, which I worked so hard on - you wouldn't take that, and my bill, my proposition, you wouldn't do that, Pietro.  You wouldn't twist it into your new, sick supremacy fantasies.  You wouldn't - "

Tears brim in Pietro's eyes.  "Wanda, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry."

"No," she whispers.  "No you're not."

"Wanda - "

"What you would you have me do, Pietro?" she asks, closing her eyes.  "What do you suggest I do?  How are we going to work this out?"

It's quiet for a long, excruciating moment, and then Pietro says the worst thing he could possibly say.

"Take the boys and leave," he says.  "Take the boys and get out of town.  I don't want you to be here when everything comes crashing down."

"Pietro - " Wanda says urgently, and she doesn't even know why she's protesting.  She agrees with him, but she can't - she can't do it.  Family is all she has anymore, and no matter what her brother has done, she just can't leave.  That's never been an option.

"You need to, Wanda.  Billy's sick.  He needs to get out of here.  He needs treatment.  And it's only going to be so long before Tommy cracks.  Take them and leave."

"Okay," Wanda whispers, nodding.  "Okay."

Pietro wraps his arms around her slowly, physically asking if it's okay.  She leans into his touch, and he hugs her tighter.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.  "I know I've fucked up, Wanda.  I know you won't forgive me, but I need you three to be safe at the very least.  I need you to be safe, and healthy, and happy."

Wanda wants to tell them that they could have been.  They could have been just fine if Pietro hadn't betrayed them, but she knows that's not true.  This family's been fucked since the minute Erik Lehnsherr set foot in Washington D.C.

_

15.

David's sitting back amongst the other passengers, scrolling away on his laptop when President Maximoff approaches him again.  He's frenzied, hair popping even more out of its gel helmet, and David is thoroughly startled.

"David?" he asks.  "Do you have any way to disguise your appearance?  Also, please tell me you have any kind of acting experience; you can't blow this."

"Uh - " is all David gets out before Pietro is hauling him away.  He's stripped out of his normal clothes and someone produces a fake mustache out of thin air while they land. He wears his own, normal, not-orange sunglasses and a pager, and Pietro tells him it's good.  Then he's being dragged out of the plane and onto the platform.

"Alright, listen," Pietro says out of the corner of his mouth.  "You're the President's mouthpiece.  You're an envoy, and you won't have to talk.  Just watch and act like you're calculating everything through the mind of Steve Rogers."

"O - okay," David says.

"I would clap you on the back but our relationship is purely professional, so good luck."

One of the guards holds David back, and Pietro steps forward.

"Alright," he says.  "Come on out, Stryker."

And that's when David notices the two guards standing in the shadows.  Twenty feet in front of Pietro they're solid and firm against the ground.  William Stryker is nowhere in sight.

"Stryker, all I have is the Secret Service and an envoy.  I'm just here to talk, like we planned.  So come out, or I'm gone, and the National Guard will be back on your doorstep."

The two guards step apart, and William Stryker rolls forward in a wheelchair, oxygen tank hooked to the side.  Both Pietro and David react with wide eyes; neither of them can help it.

Pietro nods, licking his lips.  Quietly, "You're dying."

"Not all of us can be cursed with unnatural genes," Stryker mutters.

Pietro smiles as if it's a perfectly laughable joke.  He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks back at David, positively jovial.

"I'll get right to it then," Pietro says.  "We want those mutants back, alive."

"Not a chance."

"Really?" Pietro sighs.  "Because right now, Stryker, you look like nothing but a terrorist.  The Purifiers are nowhere in the game, and this is awfully desperate.  In just a few weeks, President Rogers will be signing a bill for mutant rights, and you retaliate with your own craft of genocide?  That doesn't look good for you."

"If I bend at all, I will be seen as weak," Stryker spits, "a disgrace among the rightful side of mankind."

Pietro nods, allowing himself the moment to think.  David waits on the edge of his toes, heart pounding in the absence of conversation.

"So this is more about your pride?" Pietro asks.  "About your legacy as a mutant-hater."

Stryker gives a grisly smile, revealing his crooked teeth.  "That's right.  I'm not going out in silence."

Pietro sighs.  "Well, I think I've got something for you, Mr. Stryker.  I'll just have to run it by President Roger's envoy before I give the offer.  I'm unfortunately under orders."  He shoots a smile before walking back to David, who quickly straightens up and regards him with forced suspicion.

"Alright," Pietro says.  "Now I'm going to whisper in your ear, and I want you to shake your head 'no.'"

He leans in and David pretends to listen for a few seconds before he frowns and shakes his head.

"Now I'm going to argue with you a little," Pietro says, using his hands to emphasize a feeling of frustration.  "I'm reluctantly changing my plan and I want you to look like you're giving it some real thought."

David lifts his chin and narrows his eyes at Pietro.

"Good, good, now I'm going to suggest something else, and you're going to nod."

Pietro leans close again, and David nods, doing his best to make his expression looked pleased.

"Alright, thank you, Mr. Envoy."

Pietro turns away, and David realizes his heart is pounding in his throat.  He's putting on an act for a terrorist.  He's just put on a performance for a high-security rescue mission, and it looks like Stryker has bought it.

"Mr. Stryker," Pietro starts, folding his hands together in front of him.  "Here's our offer: you let these mutants go, we take a couple of pictures announcing our ability to make safe for the life of important government consultants, and then, when you die, Steve Rogers will make an unannounced visit to your funeral, driving anti-mutant support up all in your name."

Stryker stares at him.  "Is that a promise?"

"Well, I got the up vote from President Roger's envoy, so I would say so."

Stryker leans back in his chair.  "It's a deal."  He offers his hand.

"You sure you want a mutant to shake that?" Pietro jokes, but he shakes it anyway, and David snaps a picture.

_

16.

Kate trembles in Tommy's grip.  Her thighs tense up underneath his fingertips, and she opens them wider, letting him in closer.  She throws her head back as he takes her clit between his teeth and sucks.  He lets the skin go slowly and then licks up her labia.  She moans, and her entire body gives a shudder.

"Oh, God - Tommy - "

Her hips buck, and Tommy takes that as a cue to dip his tongue inside her.  She lets out another moan, louder this time, and her thighs shake again.  The come around his mouth tells him that she's past wet, well on her way to dripping, and more than ready.  Slowly, he presses a finger inside her.  She inhales sharply, and exhales, "fuck."

That' s when there's a knock on their front door.

Both of them look toward the living room.  Tommy pulls his finger out and Kate sighs heavily as she collapses back to the bed.

"It's three in the morning, who on Earth - ?"

Tommy grabs a tissue from the box on their dresser and wipes off his hand and his mouth.  "I'll go find out," he says before tossing it in the trash can.

The person behind the door knocks again, and when the person drawls, "Tommmmyyyyyy," he knows exactly who it is.  Worry clenches his stomach and he jogs the last few steps to the door.  He pulls it open and Billy falls forward onto his hands and knees.

"Billy?" Tommy asks, squatting down to peer at his brother.  "Billy, oh my god, are you okay?"

Billy sits back on his knees.  "I - I'm fine," he slurs.  "I'm - peachy keen."

"Oh, god," Tommy breathes.  "You're wasted."

"I took - I took a whooooole bottle of Klonopin," Billy says, and Tommy's heart lurches.

"Billy, holy shit - "

"Relax," Billy says, struggling to his feet.  "I took a whole bottle last weekend when I was partying, but I also had a lot more to drink then, oh man.  I woke up n' I had no idea what hit me."  He laughs, and Tommy wants to throw up for him.

"Tommy?" Kate calls.  "Who is it - ?"

She appears in the doorway, dressed in her robe.  She takes one look at Billy and her face falls.

"Oh, shhhit," Billy breathes.  "I'm sorry - I didn't think.  Were you guys sleeping?"

"No, no," Kate says, rushing forward and pulling Billy into her arms.  "We weren't, it's okay."  She drags him to the couch and makes him sit down with her.  He smiles at her, and she tries not to cry as she feels for his pulse and listens to him breathe.  "Tommy, what did he take?"

"Klonopin," Tommy sniffs.  "A whole bottle."

Kate's eyes go wide, but Tommy's quick to interject.

"He'll be fine.  He's relapsed worse than I thought.   He just told me he took a whole bottle partying last weekend."

"Oh, Billy," Kate breathes.  Her hands come up quick to grip his face.  Tears swell over in her eyes and drip down her cheek.  "God, what were you thinking?"

He swallows.  "I didn't - I didn't want to think.  I did something bad, Kate.  Fuck, I did something bad."

Kate lets one hand fall to his shoulder, where she holds tight.  "What did you do, Billy?"

He hiccups.  "I - I went to Strange," he admits.  "I went, and I signed up, and I'm joining his new project, and I - my family's going to hate me."

"No, no," Kate says.  "I don't hate you, Billy.  Tommy doesn't hate you either.  Right, Tommy?"

Tommy joins them on the couch and rests a soft hand on his brother's back.  "No, I don't hate you, Billy.  I love you."

Billy looks back at him, eyes red-rimmed.  "Mom's gonna hate me.  Pietro already does.  And - and Granddad won't ever speak to me again."   His lips tremble and Tommy lunges forward to catch his brother in an awkward hug.

"I won't tell them, Billy," he says.  "I promise.  I'll help you figure everything out."

"Do you still love me, Tommy?" Billy asks.

Tommy nods.  "I love you so much, little brother."

Billy smiles, though his lips still shake for fear of crying.  "I love you too, big brother."

He stays in Tommy's arms for well over a minute, and Kate watches, hands covering her mouth as she holds in sobs.  He'll be staying with them for the night, they both know, and probably many nights after that.  Billy almost killed himself once, and they're not going to let him do it again.

_

17.

Sobered up and showered, Billy finds himself in his Mom's place.  He'd ditched his grandfather the night before, and he's come to apologize.  Erik waits for him at the piano, still practicing with the marbles.  They come to a swirling stop once Billy enters the room.  Erik looks up, solemn.

"You ditched me last night."

"I know," Billy says sheepishly.  "And I've come to apologize and ask if you still want my help today."

"I don't want to work today," Erik says.  "I just want to talk to you, Billy."

Billy blinks.  "About what?"

Erik's gaze doesn't even falter.  "I know where you were last night, what you did.  And I know how bad you've gotten."

"Granddad - "

"Just sit, Billy," Erik says, pointing to the chair in front of him.

The expression on his face is what convinces Billy.  He's never seen his grandfather look this reserved and frankly, sad.  He and Tommy used to joke about Erik being "Grandpa Grumps", but this is something else, something on an entirely different level.

"I'm not here to scold you, Billy," Erik starts.  "I'm not here to put you down, because I know you.  I know your story, and I know how this story ends."

Billy stiffens, not sure he wants to hear this.

"You know the story of your grandmother, Magda.  You know that she died shortly after giving birth to your mother and your uncle.  You know about Suzanna and how your aunt, Lorna, came into this world.  But I had someone else in my life, Billy, someone who helped me raise Wanda and Pietro, and for a short time, Lorna.  His name was Charles Xavier."

Billy has to look away from his grandfather.  He's heard about Charles from his parents and from Lorna.  He knows that Charles is a forbidden subject, that no one is ever to bring him up around Erik.  Now that can is about to spilled, and Billy is terrified.

"We met when we were young, when I was just getting involved in politics.  We never quite saw eye to eye, but we formed a friendship nonetheless.  And something more, later on.  We were so similar, two abandoned boys, lost to a world that didn't care about us.  And I loved Charles, I truly did, but I made mistakes, Billy.  I made so many of them, so many that I couldn't take back."  Erik shifts his weight and the lines in his face tense with pain.  "There was a riot, a particularly violent riot that I started, and I was there to impress and defeat, not protect.  I lead everyone into  a shootout.  I told you I can deflect bullets, and I can.  I did, but it came at the expense of Charles.  I curved its path, and it hit Charles.  He survived, but he was left paralyzed and terribly, terribly depressed."

Billy's hand flies up to cover his mouth; he can't even try to mask his horror.  He can't imagine how this story is going to get any worse, but he knows that it will.  And yet, there's still something that doesn't make sense.

"Granddad?" he interjects.  "I - I imagine this is really hard for you to talk about, and I appreciate that, but what does this have to do with me?"

Erik holds up a hand to hush him, and Billy shuts his mouth.  "After the riot, I was arrested.  I spent several years in jail, and after I got out, Charles wasn't the same person.  He had started taking an experimental drug to regain use of his legs, but it stunted his powers, and  it was addictive.  He was an addict for the rest of his life, Billy.  He found glimmers of hope in Wanda and Pietro and Lorna, but ultimately, Charles killed himself."

Billy's eyes flutter shut, and bile rises in the back of his throat.  He didn't know what he thought his grandfather had planned to say to him, but it wasn't this.  He imagined something loud, something violent, something reproachful - not this - this that's tearing Billy apart.

"Granddad," he whispers.  "I don't - I don't want to be like this.  I want to get better."

"I know you do," Erik says.  "But I also know the statistics, and I know that what you're doing to yourself is dangerous.  That's why I can't support you, Billy.  I can't support you heading down the same road on which I watched Charles destruct."

Billy sniffs, and that's when he realizes he's crying.  "I'm sorry," he whispers.  He pushes himself forward and wraps his arms around his grandfather.

"I don't want to lose you, Billy."

"I'm sorry," Billy says again.  "I'm so sorry, Granddad."

_

18.

With the success of the mission, the engagement party is twice as celebratory.  Kate is happy in a flowing lavender dress, Tommy at her side with a matching bowtie.  Billy watches them dance from the back of the room, sipping on a mixed drink he tells everyone is alcohol-free.  He switched out the bottle of pills in his jacket pocket for a baggie full of pills and he'll take them the next time he has to pee.

He's reeling with anxiety , stomach boiling with the guilt of knowing he's Strange's bitch again.  He's optimistic about the project itself, but not about what his family would say should they find out.  He'd probably be disowned, but if they gave him a chance to become the mage he knows he can be, maybe they'd spare him the lecture and the disappointment.  Billy takes a sip of his drink, which only continues to make his stomach churn.

Across the dance floor, Tommy twirls Kate as the last note of the song rings across the room.  He smiles and pulls her in for a quick kiss, but his gaze doesn't miss his brother sitting in the corner, sipping away on the color-shielded glass of vodka.  He sighs, and Kate follows his eyes.

"Go talk to him," she says.

Tommy shakes his head.  "He's not the one who needs an intervention just yet."  He sighs.  "Will you excuse me, Kate?"

She nods.  "I'll go sit with Billy, talk to him about something chill, distract him."

Tommy smiles sadly.  "Good idea."

They part, and he makes a beeline for his mother, dressed up in a deep pink gown, her hair curled and decorated with elaborate jewels.  She's smiling and working her charm with the guests, but the look on her face makes Tommy sick.  He knows she's buttering the public up before the campaign begins.  The mission only furthered her success, and Tommy can't stand it.

Tommy waits on the sideline, watching with disgust as Wanda finishes a conversation with a European diplomat.  He doesn't even know half the people at his party, which means no doubt that Wanda and Pietro are using the publicity for his wedding to their advantage.

When the diplomat turns to take his leave, Tommy storms forward and grabs his mother's arm.

She whirls around, surprised, "Tommy - what?"

"Have you happened to see Billy tonight?" he asks, and nods his head to where his brother is sitting.

Wanda looks and she can't hide her grimace.

"He's only going to get worse if you go through with this," Tommy says, voice low.

Wanda stiffens, looking down at her son with a regal stare.  "Then he's going back to rehab.  Now excuse me, Thomas - I don't need you to continue to blame me for your brother's illness."

She stalks past him, and Tommy's veins light on fire.  He feels a surge go through his muscles and he has to take a deep breath to keep from accelerating.

_

19.

**From First Lady to World-leading Woman**

_David Alleyne_

           It's no secret that I've made my career out of exposing and exploiting Wanda Maximoff.  I've criticized her campaigns, her policies, even her wardrobe choices.  I've shamed her family, and weeks ago, I aided in the original sleaze article that outed her son's suicide attempt.  I've said a lot of things - things I remember, and things I don't, but I do know there is one thing I've never said in an article, and that is thank you.

       For the past week, Wanda Maximoff has allowed me to witness her life firsthand, and all I have in return is endless gratitude.  She's enlightened me.  She's shown me a world I hadn't known existed, a side of her I hadn't known existed.  I've witnessed the chaos of an engagement, the love rallied around a broken family member, and the success of a high-security mission.  I've been on the front line and sat in the background, observing the simplicities of the Maximoff household, and it's an experience I'll never forget.

       There is one thing clear to me now, and that's that Wanda Maximoff is ablaze in the hellfire of Washington D.C., and she is ruling it.  Maximoff has always been an impressive politician, but seeing the cogs work behind the machine is a whole different story than watching her give the final speeches at campaign rallies.  When faced with crisis, Maximoff is cool and level-headed.  She takes every outcome into consideration and applies her greatest strengths to the situation.  Many people doubted her brother's ability to rescue three mutants from execution, but Maximoff was confident and pushed for his involvement.  As proven, Pietro Maximoff delivered and that night, while the whole country was made aware of his success, the entire Maximoff family came together for the engagement party of Thomas Maximoff and his fiancee, Kate Bishop, just as pleased and proud of Pietro.

       In addition to her abilities as Secretary of State, Wanda Maximoff is much more than that.  She's a feminist, she's an icon for mutant rights, and she's a mother.  When the news got leaked that her son had attempted suicide, I watched her transform.  She had been in an important meeting with President Rogers when it broke, and the blood surging through her veins went radioactive.  I watched her break down, crying, and screaming, and sobbing through her woes as a mother.  She stuck up so fiercely for her son that I was transported back in time to when Billy Maximoff first moved into the White House, back when he was America's son, before he was out, before his life become so scrutinized by this public.  But this - this was more emotional still.  I'm a single man in his early thirties with no plans to have children, but a large part of me could feel Maximoff's pain as I watched her shred into pieces over her son.

       Wanda Maximoff isn't the victim I wrote about years and years ago.  Wanda Maximoff is a woman.  She is strong, she is clever, and she is ambitious.  She's a ruthless politician, a hard-working feminist, mutant rights activist, and general supporter for the minorities of this world, and she's an amazing mother.  Wanda Maximoff is everything I aspire to be.  So once again, Wanda Maximoff - thank you.

_

20.

David is just submitting his final draft when he gets a phone call from an unknown number.  He stares, stricken by the glowing screen for a moment before he picks up, against his better judgment.  Pressing the phone against the tip of his ear, he says, "Hello?"

"David Alleyne?" a voice on the other end asks.  "This is Thomas Maximoff.  I need you to meet me in the Hotel Sixty-Six parking lot just off of Highway Eleven."

The words don't quite register.  "What?"

"I know you heard me, and I know you understand.  I need you to do this.  I have information for you about my mother."

The line goes dead, and out of either instinct or insanity, David grabs his coat off the back of his desk chair and heads out of his office. Twenty minutes later, his car pulls into the Hotel 66 parking lot, right next to a dark-windowed SUV.  He pulls the key out of the ignition, and Tommy Maximoff steps out of the back seat of the car.

"Thank you for coming," Tommy says as David hops down from his seat and onto the pavement.

"What's going on?" David asks.

"My mother is running for president again."

Silence follows his words, and all David can muster out a minute later is, "why are you telling me this?"

"Because I need you to know.  You can't credit me as the source, and I can't give you any more information, but I need you to get the word out."

"Tommy, I can't - not without a credible source."

Tommy growls, then takes a deep breath and steps closer.  "Listen, David," he begins, and his breath is harsh against the chilly air, "my mother is doing this against our family's wishes.  She's doing this purely for selfish reasons, and I can't take it anymore.  She won't listen to me.  My family's in danger.  My brother's going to kill himself, and I can't live without doing something - anything to sabotage her."

"Tommy," David says slowly.  "I can't - I can't be the one to do this.  Not after this article is published.  I can't do that to your mother."

"I can't let my brother die," Tommy counters.  "You don't have to write it.  I don't care how it gets out, but I need it to get out.  And I - well I can keep you updated of her plans until the moment is right - until I can get you a viable source and you'll have a worthwhile article."

"I don't know - "

"Please," Tommy almost begs, and David can see the tears building up in his eyes.  "I'm just trying to save my family."

David swallows hard, and for some reason, he thinks of Loki.

"Okay," he says.  "Okay."

 


	3. Episode 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: evidence + talk of self-harm (4, 12), talk of child neglect (7, 15), drug use (11, 13), anxiety/panic (16)
> 
> If you're still reading, I love you! I also love you if you had to stop to take care of yourself!

1.

It's three in the morning, and the quiet creak of footsteps means that there's someone else who can't sleep.  Wanda looks up from her tea.  Head turned, she finds her brother lowering himself into the armchair to her right.

"What's keeping you up?" she asks.

Pietro scrunches his nose.  "Anxiety."

Wanda nods.  "Me too."  She heaves a sigh.  "I'm worried about Billy."

Pietro bites his lip.  "He's getting worse."                                                               

"I know.  I'm - I don't know what to do, Pietro.  He won't let me help him.  I tried to call him, to talk to him - he doesn't want my help."

"He'll come around."

Wanda shakes her head, hands wrapping tighter around the mug in her grip.  "I don't know, Pietro.  What if he doesn't?  Tommy told me that Billy's been exhibiting suicidal thoughts again."  She sighs again, but it comes out shaky.  "Pietro, I couldn't live with myself if Billy - if - "

Pietro stands up without a word and crosses over to sit next to his sister on the couch.  She's trembling, and he takes her shoulders in his hands, massages her neck.

"Don't you dare start to blame yourself."

Wanda closes her eyes and nods.  She tries to relax, tries to let her brother work the tension from her muscles, but it doesn't help.

"I'm calling that psychiatrist - the one he had in the hospital.  I think it would be good for Billy to start seeing her again."

"Yes, yes," Pietro murmurs.  "That's a good idea.  What was her name?  Capford?  Catlin?"

"Kaplan," Wanda says.  "Rebecca Kaplan."

"Oh, right.  Yes.  She helped him a lot.  I really hope seeing her again works out."

"I do too, Pietro," Wanda whispers.  "She's the only thing I've got so far.  I don't - I don't know how else to help him.  He's so lost.  I can't reach him anymore."

It's quiet for a long moment as the two of them reflect.  Pietro's fingers stall on Wanda's back, and she blinks back the tears that have built up in her eyes.

"I can try to reach him," Pietro says quietly.  "His biggest problem is stress right now, right?  Being back in the limelight of Washington?  What if he got away for awhile?"

Wanda turns around.  "What are you suggesting?"

"I'll take the boys for a week.  We'll go somewhere, anywhere - just get out of town.  Like we used to," Pietro insists.  "They need to relax.  I think - if they just had some time to themselves to rest and recuperate, they'd feel better.  I know  Billy's not doing well, but Tommy these days - he's going to crack."

Wanda nods.  "I'd been thinking about finding him a psychiatrist too.  But if Billy didn't go, he wouldn't either."

"Alright, it's decided," Pietro declares.  "I'll take the boys away for a little retreat.  We'll talk - about Doctor Kaplan, about sobriety, about Thomas putting his damn cell phone away for a second and not overworking himself.  He's too worried about everyone else."

"I know he is," Wanda sighs.  "He's going to run himself into the ground, and that's not going to help anyone."  Her shoulders sag, and her mouth pulls down.  Pietro gives her shoulders another squeeze and leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his sister's cheek.

"I'll take care of the boys, Wanda.  I promise."

_

2.

Sam doesn't even have to prod Billy to talk today.  Billy storms into the room and takes his seat.  He doesn't look at anyone when he blurts out, "I want to go first today."

Sam's just started checking off attendance, and he pauses before saying slowly, "Go ahead, Billy."

"I'm furious with my family," he huffs.  He gives a look across the circle at Teddy that says, "I'll give you the full story later."

"Why, Billy?" Sam asks.

"Because they're overbearing and invasive, and I'm tired of them acting like they care about me, when we all know they only care at all if it's convenient for them."

He wrings his hands out and takes a deep breath.

"Billy?"

"I'm okay," he breathes.  "Just give me a second."  At a faster pace than he would expect, Billy touches his fingers to his thumb on both hands.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Pointer, middle, ring, pinky, ring middle, pointer.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Calm growing, he continues.  "My mom won't leave me alone.  She's demanding I go back to my psychiatrist, which I don't mind.  But she also wants me to move back in and she wants me to start taking random drug tests, and I'm honestly just tired of the way she treats me like some naughty child.  I - I know she's worried, and I know I've given her reason to be worried in the past, but she's suffocating me."

"Have you tried just calmly talking to her?" Sam asks.

Billy scoffs.  "Have you ever seen her debate?  There's no arguing with that woman."  He runs a hand through his hair and pulls at the tips of the strands that fall between his fingers.  "And I mean - I'm not even that bad right now.  I'm trying to be happy.  I'm trying to do good.  It's like - my family can't even see when I really do need them.  Before - before the suicide attempt, no one even cared.  They blew off the drinking and the pills like I was just another troubled kid.  They didn't - they never asked me how I was, how I felt, you know?  Mostly, they were just ashamed of me, because I was an alcoholic, because I embarrassed myself and them in public, but when I was at home alone, and I - I was just drowning myself in silence, nobody cared.  But then it was like 'Shit, Billy tried to kill himself!  I guess we better do something!'  After I got out of the hospital, people checked up on me for a month, maybe?  And then it was all quiet again.  Now everyone thinks I'm going to try to kill myself again and oh, they care again!  Nobody cares about me full time.  Nobody cares unless I'm threatening to shoot myself in the head."

"I hear that," someone says, and Billy looks up to find Loki back with them.  His hair is greasy, tied into a messy bun, and his eyes are dark holes in his head.  Billy can't even find his pupils.  Something in his chest constricts.

"Loki?" Sam presses.

"Hi, everyone," Loki says, sheepish.  He gives a painful grin.  "As anyone could guess, I've had a major relapse.  I did something terrible which consequently forced my boyfriend and I to break up, and I've - I've been drinking since then until yesterday when my friend Verity threw all the alcohol from the house and made me stay in her sight twenty-four-seven.  I . . . have been having serious suicidal thoughts."  He sighs, chest heavy, and then rubs his face with his hands.  "My father hasn't contacted me in years, not since my suicide attempt.  My brother tries to visit as often as he can, but I don't like disrupting his life.  Verity - "  He takes another deep breath.  "Verity threatened to call him if I didn't come back here, and I don't - I don't need that false sense of caring that Billy's talking about.  It doesn't help."

Sam presses his lips together as the group falls back into silence.

"Thank you for sharing, boys."

Billy doesn't feel entirely present through the rest of the meeting.  He keeps getting lost in his own mind and in Loki's story.  Every so often, he looks up and finds Loki in the same position - hunched over like he's in terrible pain.  After the meeting, Billy tries to talk to him, but Loki leaves as fast as he can, and Billy's left standing halfway out the room, mouth open like he's going to call Loki's name.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, but it's just Teddy.

"I'm sorry your family isn't helping like you want them to," he says, and Billy has to give himself a shake before he turns around and replies.

"Thank - thank you.  I'm - I'm sorry I haven't called, I just - "

Teddy smiles.  "It's okay, Billy.  I know you're doing your best."

Billy shakes his head, his own smile growing.  "You're too nice to me."

Teddy laughs, looks at his feet, and then stares at a Billy for a moment with a stunning change in expression.  He looks like he's about to throw up, and Billy reaches out a hand.

"Billy," Teddy says.

"Yes?"

"Would - would you like to go out for dinner tonight?"

Billy is dumbfounded, and all he manages to say is, "Do you mean - ?  Like a date?"

"It - it doesn't have to be," Teddy says quickly, an adorable blush rising in his cheeks.

"No, no I want it to be," Billy laughs.  "Trust me.  I want it to be."

"So - is that a yes?" Teddy asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Unfortunately - I can't tonight, but what about Saturday?" Billy asks.  "I'm free then."

"It's a date," Teddy replies.

"It's a date." Billy echoes.

_

3.

**two years prior //**

"I really thought your sister held her own during the debate last night, but many, many viewers cited Rogers as the most worthy candidate thus far.  What do you have to say to this, President Maximoff?"

Pietro's smirk lights up the television screen.  "I honestly have one thing to say about that, and it's this: if my sister didn't have tits, she'd be the democrat candidate in a heartbeat."

The reporter looks visibly put off, but pushes forward anyway.  "Can you elaborate?"

"My sister is a great politician," Pietro continues.  "She's strong in her morality and presents her ideas perfectly.  But as usual, political America looks the other way because they're threatened by what's between my sister's legs.  As if a vagina is something to base your vote on."

"I - I would agree," the reporter coughs, "that the sexism your sister faces is unjust.  I urge viewers and voters to think outside of gender when selecting your democrat candidate."

Tommy is accelerating, different limbs shaking absurdly fast.  When Pietro is lead back to the green room, Tommy speeds to him.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"What are you talking about?" Pietro asks.

"What exactly were you hoping to accomplish by talking like that on live television?"

Pietro scoffs.  "I was hoping to alert the country to the sexism plaguing your mother, that's what."

Tommy sighs dramatically.  "I've told you time and time again that being vulgar helps no one."

"How else am I supposed to get their attention?" Pietro asks.  "You think people don't know that sexism sets Wanda back?  I have to be vulgar about it."

"No, you don't.  Being vulgar only brings attention to you, and as someone who's a huge part of Mom's campaign, it looks bad.  You're being incredibly selfish," Tommy finishes.  His jaw is set and his shoulders are tense and hunched.

"And you're a child," Pietro replies.  "You haven't been in politics as long as I have, Thomas."

"I've grown up in it," Tommy replies without missing a beat.  "Not to mention my degree or countless internships.  I've been working in Washington D.C. since I was fifteen, Pietro.  I know what the hell I'm talking about.  And if you cared at all about your sister, you'd stop this stupid act and be an adult about this campaign."

Tommy walks away this time, placing all his self-control on his runaway powers.  Most of him wants to run, to speed and get the anxiety out of his system, but he has to stick the point to Pietro, so he walks as calmly as possible and doesn't dare to turn around and look at his uncle's face.

_

4.

They're meeting at Verity's favorite coffee shop.  It's somewhere neutral.  Somewhere neither of them have an advantage.  Verity's even waiting outside to drive Loki home.  She won't hear or see any of the conversation, and therefore she can't intervene.

Loki's there first.  He slides into the empty booth and slumps down into the seat, steadying himself by placing his folded hands on the table in front of him.  David comes in just a few minutes after him.  He walks slow and unsure, and he hesitates before he sits down across from his ex-boyfriend.

"So," David says, staring at the table.  "You look good."

"I look like shit," Loki counters.

David actually looks at him now, then winces.

"Yeah."

"When's the last time you showered?" David asks.  "Not - not because I'm worried about how you smell, but I need to know you're taking care of yourself."

Loki gives it some false thought.  "I think Verity shoved me under the water a couple of days ago but I just kind of stood there for twenty minutes until she pulled me out."

David lets his head fall into his hands, and he rubs at his face with vigor for a few seconds.  "Loki - "

"Don't scold me, David."

David lifts his head up and sighs.  He looks around while he interlocks his fingers.  "How have you been?  Really?"

"About the same as I look," Loki mutters.  "I tried to drink myself to death at first, but Verity wouldn't allow that.  She's promised to call Thor if I don't start getting myself back on track, so I'm trying."

David huffs and shakes his head.  If Loki were optimistic, he'd say the shininess of David's eyes looks a bit like an onset of tears.  "I'm so sorry, Loki."

Loki presses his lips together and makes a noise in the back of his throat.  "Don't - don't put any of this on yourself, David.  I'm the one who started drinking again.  I'm the one who started acting like an imbecile, and therefore hurt you. I'm the one who printed that stupid article.  You had every right to break up with me."

"But I was so harsh - "

"I was harsher," Loki insists.  He licks his lips, and then laughs, humorless, painful.  "I'm a terrible person."

"Loki - "

David reaches a hand out, but stops when he sees that Loki is absently itching the inside of his arm.  The sleeve rolls up to show tracks of scabs and irritated skin.

"You've been scratching again."

Loki looks down, then back up at David.  "Oh, yeah.  Well, it's not like I can cut since Verity keeps anything remotely sharp locked up.  I mean - she monitors me while I use a butter knife."

"I'm glad you have Verity."

Loki sighs and stops itching.  "As annoying as all of her precaution can be, I am too."

"Listen, Loki," David starts, intercepted by a deep breath.  Loki almost wants to tune out.  He only agreed to this meeting because a) Verity pressured him, and b) David promised he wouldn't be scolded or yelled at or reproached even though Loki's pretty sure he deserves it.  "I'm sorry I was so . . . cruel to you when we broke up, and I'm sorry I haven't tried to reconcile anything until now.  I - I know you've been in a bad place, and I know it's not fair of me to harbor anything towards you even if you did some pretty awful things.  You clearly regret what you've done, and I know what happens when you feel truly remorseful, and I don't - I don't want to lose you, okay?"

"David, I'm not going to kill myself," Loki says, utterly blunt.

"No, no, that's not what I was - " David tries to backtrack, but Loki interrupts him.

"I haven't attempted anything.  I don't even have a plan.  Passive suicidal ideation.  That's it.  I'm back at AA - I have private counseling sessions with Sam scheduled.  I told you, David.  I'm trying."

"I know.  And I - I believe you," David stammers, "but what I'm trying to say is - I'm sorry for the way I treated you, no matter what you think you deserve, and I want to be friends."

Loki purses his lips and blinks a few times before answering.  "Well, alright.  I don't see why you would want to be friends with me, but I'm pretty lonely and at loss for reasons to live, so I'll take what I can get."

"Can I hug you?" David asks.

"David," Loki says, and huffs a laugh.  "Have I ever been a person who enjoys unsolicited hugs?"

"No," David replies with a smirk.  "But it was good to see you smile."

_

5.

Everyone is already seated when Billy rushes into the room, struggling to get himself out of his leather jacket.  When he does get it off, he throws it over the back of the dining chair he consequently collapses into.

"Sorry I'm late - also sorry I have to leave before the after-dinner alcohol."

Tommy rolls his eyes at the alcohol comment, but Wanda picks up on the Billy's ditching them part.

"What do you mean you're leaving early?"

Billy chokes slightly on the water he's sipping.  "I - uh - I'm meeting someone from AA and . . going to a movie."

Wanda raises her eyebrows.

"He's just trying to cover up the fact that he's going over to Teddy's place tonight," Tommy chimes in.

Billy chokes again, and the blush that rises in his cheeks definitely convinces his mother.

"Teddy?" she asks with a wide grin.

"He's my sober partner," Billy grumbles.  "He asked me out at the meeting today."

"Someone you won't have to drink with," Pietro remarks.  "I approve."

"You should have brought him over for dinner, Bills," Wanda chides.  "We would have loved to meet him."

"I know," Billy says, stabbing at his food.  "That's exactly why I didn't invite him."

A chorus of boo's follow his remark, and Billy takes the opportunity to glance at his brother and give a thankful look.  Tommy returns it with a wink.

"Alright," Wanda says, "now that everyone's here, I'd like for us to discuss how we're going to move forward with my campaign, as a family."

"Highly increase or level of dysfunctionality," Tommy replies.

Billy laughs, and Wanda shoots them both a look that shuts them up almost instantly.

"Fine, fine, real talk," Tommy says, straightening up in his chair.  "I'm your campaign manager."

"As I had hoped," Wanda says, falsely sweet, and she gives Tommy a forced smile.  "But what I really want to address first is the fact that there are rumors flying around everywhere.  These need to be silenced.  I need all of you to stay quiet about this.  We aren't releasing any information until we're ready.  That is key.  Tell everyone why, Thomas."

He huffs and lets his fork clang on his plate.  "Because secrecy gives you the initial advantage.  No one will know you're coming in as a ready opponent and you'll have the upper hand."

"Correct.  So, I need all of you to promise me that you'll keep this secret, okay."

Everyone mumbles an "I promise" in return, but Tommy's hand disappears for a moment.

"I'm ready to do anything you need of me, Wanda," Pietro says.  "You know that."

Wanda smiles.

"I don't really know what you're expecting of me," Billy says around the bite of food in his mouth.  "But we all know I'm shit at politics."

Wanda turns to him, her demeanor serious.  "Billy, all I want is for you to focus on yourself right now, okay?  I can't do anything without knowing that you're okay."

"No problem, Mom," Billy replies, hurrying to avoid her eyes.

Tommy says something under his breath that nobody catches.

"Dad?" Wanda says, turning to her father.  "You haven't said a word."

Erik sighs.  Leaning back in his chair, he says, "You wouldn't like what I have to say, Wanda."

"Dad?" Wanda says again, but it's filled with venom.

Tension hangs in the air for a long moment while Erik stares at his daughter sadly and Wanda looks back at him with an expression that says she's been betrayed.  Over a minute passes before Pietro clears his throat and looks pointedly at his sister.

"Shall I tell the boys about the trip?" he asks.

Wanda blinks, and with difficulty, forces herself to look away from her father.  "Yes, yes I suppose now is as good a time as ever."

Both Tommy and Billy freeze as they lock eyes.

"Oh, god," Billy mutters.

"What is it?" Tommy asks.

"I'm taking you boys to Transia for the week," Pietro says with a too-wide smile.  "We leave Friday morning."

Both Billy and Tommy groan loudly.

"Mom, I had plans," Billy whines.  "Please don't make me do this."

"What about your campaign?" Tommy asks.  "We just established how much there actually is to do.  How do you expect me to take a week off?"

Wanda holds up both her hands, instantly silencing her sons.  "Listen to me.  Both of you.  Billy, cancel whatever plans you had, or put them on hold.  You need a week of stress-free relaxation and recovery."

"So this is just a detox?" Billy asks incredulously.

"No," Wanda says, then shrugs, "but I expect you to be sober during it."  She turns to Tommy.  "And you - you put that damn cell phone down and concentrate on yourself, you hear me?  Don't you dare plan one single thing to do with this campaign.  Rest.  Recover.  That's what this is about, boys."

"What about you?" Billy asks.  "You're coming, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid not," Wanda says with a sheepish grin.  "I've got to give a speech this weekend at a feminism-focused mutant rights rally.  With this bill on the horizon, stirring up support is critical."

"You're a hypocrite," Tommy says disbelievingly.

"A hypocrite who cares about the well-being of her sons," she says.   "Go with your uncle.  Relax, for the love of god.  You'd think I was pulling teeth.  I'm asking you to go on vacation."

"It's just a week," Pietro points out.  "It'll pass and you'll wish you enjoyed yourselves more."

Billy and Tommy both let out huge sighs and slump in their seats.

"So I suppose there's no way we can really get out of this?" Billy asks.

Wanda smirks and rests her head on the tip of her fist.  "Not a chance."

_

6.

It's nine in the morning, and Tommy already has a headache.  The noise in the cafe really does nothing to help it, either.  He massages his temples in vain and lets out a small whimper.  Kate looks up at him across the small, circular table.  She's trying to hide a smile, but is pretty much failing at it.

"Do you need ibuprofen, honey?" she asks.

"Yes, please," Tommy mumbles.

She digs around in her purse before handing him the bottle.  With hurried hands, he pours six pills into his hands and swallows them dry.  Kate looks at him warningly when he hands the bottle back.

"You better not start taking after your brother."

Tommy rolls his eyes, then winces.  "Metabolism, Kate."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Tommy blinks.  "Talk about what?"

It's Kate's turn to roll her eyes.  "Whatever's bothering you.  I know you've got plenty going on, so spill."

Tommy lets out a moan.  "I don't even know where to begin."

"Assuming you came home disheveled and exhausted last night, it probably has something to do with whatever happened at dinner."

"My mother is crazy," he blurts out.  "She's making Billy and I go on a trip to Transia for relaxation, and I don't understand why.  Transia?  If we were going to understand our ancestry or something, I would understand, but for a relaxing week-long getaway?  What am I supposed to do?  Sit in the rain?"  He winces again.  "Oh, god, I'm going to give myself an aneurysm."

Kate reaches out and grips one of Tommy's hands in hers.  "Hey, hey - don't do that.  That would be very bad.  I would really prefer you didn't do that."

Tommy finally lets his shoulders sag, frowning at his fiancée.  "I don't wanna go."

Kate smiles despite herself.  "I'm sorry - you're adorable when you're pouty."  She traces a shape on the back of Tommy's hand with her thumb.  "Go, Tommy.  Go and try to enjoy yourself.  It's a week alone with your brother.  So, even when you feel like you're not getting anything done, you can just take care of him.  Spend time with him.  Help your mom convince him to go back to his psychiatrist."

"Hey - that's actually a pretty good idea.  You're so smart."

Kate smiles.  "Well, that's why you're marrying me right?"

Tommy smiles back and leans over the table to kiss her.  "Exactly right."

_

7.

Unsurprisingly, Wanda finds her father in the kitchen, sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of scotch.  She sits down next to him, and just stares for a long while until it's clear that she's going to have to be the one to broach the subject.

"We need to talk, Dad."

Erik takes a sip of his drink.  "I already told you, Wanda.  You won't want to hear it."

"And that's exactly why I need to.  Why are you so against me running again?"

Erik drains the glass.  "Where do you want me to start?"

Wanda shakes her head, disbelieving.  "Anywhere."

"Dear, have you looked at your family lately?" Erik asks, setting the glass down hard on the countertop.  "It's falling apart."

"It's not because of this campaign," Wanda says, voice firm.

"It's not.  You're right.  It's because everyone is back in the limelight with Thomas' engagement.  Imagine how much worse things will be under the pressure of your campaign."

Wanda is silent for a long time, drowning in absolute fury.   First it was Thomas, and Wanda could handle that.  Thomas is her son.  He's younger, he's naive.  She could pretend like he just didn't know, like she knew best, but now her father is jumping ship, and she's not ready to sink.

Her mind starts running, and it's like Erik has just ignited a bomb.

"Are you saying," she begins slowly, "that I can't keep track of my own family?  Are you telling me that I'm a bad mother?"

Erik only shrugs.

"Unbelievable," Wanda hisses.  "This is rich, so rich, coming from you.  I have done my absolute best with the boys.  When their father died, I had no idea how I was going to care for them by myself, but I did it.  I went from the funeral to the White House with Pietro, and I raised those boys on my own.  I was a single mother, with a very busy brother who could only help me every so often, but I made it work.  And even with all that pressure, with being under America's scrutiny, not only did I raise two wonderful boys, but I made a career for myself.  And I know life hasn't been perfect for my sons.  I know that Billy's had it rough, and Tommy doesn't get nearly enough attention, but I am trying, Dad.  And that's more than you ever did."

Erik's eyes darken, and Wanda feels the smallest twinge of regret, though ultimately, she feels good.   Years and years and years of attacks on her as a mother, as a woman, as human being have been enough, and she's not going to stand for any more - especially coming from her own father.

"This is a first," Erik remarks.  "Usually it's your brother who likes to tell me what a horrible father I am."

"You didn't do anything, Dad," Wanda whispers, and that's when she feels the tears that have welled up in her eyes.  "Pietro and I needed you, and you just - you didn't care.  He almost - he almost succeeded, and I was going to - and you didn't.  You did nothing.  I did everything for him, and then it all happened again with Billy, and you - you have the audacity to call me a bad mother?  I took care of your own son for you."

It's quiet for a long time, and Wanda spends most of it desperately trying to hold in her tears.  She's not going to let her father win.

"Do you really believe that, Wanda?" Erik asks, and his voice is oddly strained.  "Do you really believe that I didn't care?  That I didn't try my best to get Pietro the care he needed?  You forget - I was a single parent too.  Not only that, but I was a Jewish immigrant with a criminal record.  Yes, that record is my own fault, but it bodes poorly when you have to beg a government that hates you for help.  I was a father with a horrible, horrible past of mistakes, but I did try my best by you and your brother."

Wanda's blood only continues to boil.  Her father's apology speech sounds like an attempt to save his own ass and make her feel sorry for him.  In any other situation, Wanda would hold her tongue, but not today.

"Try harder," she spits, and walks away.

_

8.

A borrowed SUV pulls them up to the rustic old cottage.  The wooden shutters are open, and the front of the house is covered in vegetation on the orders of vines and out-of-control flowerbeds.  The cobblestone path that leads to the door is uneven and lumpy.  Billy stares at the sight skeptically.

"Is this seriously what I gave up a date with Teddy for?" he mutters under his breath.

Tommy replies with an equally agitated sigh.

"Oh, lighten up, boys," Pietro scoffs.  "Your mother and I were nursed in this house, and we spent many summers here after that."

Tommy and Billy share a disgusted look.

"We could have gone without knowing that, thanks," Tommy groans.

The car crackles to a stop, and the engine hums away.

"Grab your bags, boys," Pietro orders.  "I'll give you a tour."

The tour itself actually isn't at all exciting.  The cottage consists of one floor - an open kitchen and living room, one bathroom, and two bedrooms.

"You guys okay with sharing a bed?" Pietro asks when he shows them their room.  "I know it's been a couple years - "

"Yeah, since we were, like, four."

"It's fine," Tommy reassures.

"If not, there's a couch," Pietro points out.

Billy turns to his brother.  "Flip a coin?"

"I'm heads," Tommy replies.

Billy digs a quarter from his pocket, flips it into the air, and catches it with a smack on the top of his hand.  He barks a laugh in his brother's face when it shows the tail side.  "Ha - bed's all mine."  He tosses his suitcase onto the mattress for emphasis and Tommy curses.

"You're free to unpack and relax for an hour," Pietro says, sticking his head into the room again.  Neither of them had really noticed he left.  "But I want you guys to change into something more comfortable, because we're doing something together at that time."  He disappears again.

"I'm - I'm going to die here," Billy says, collapsing onto the bed.  "I can't believe I'm going to die here."

Tommy shrugs.  "I mean - maybe it won't be that bad?"

Billy glares at him with one eyebrow raised.

_

9.

David  is already on the bench waiting for Wanda when she arrives.  Wanda greets him with a smile, and he returns it, scooting over so she can sit.  She takes her seat graciously and relaxes.  Her muscles release one by one, and Wanda closes her eyes for a second.

"I'm so glad the boys are out of the country."

David laughs.  "Have they been giving you a lot of trouble?"

Wanda opens her eyes and looks to him.  "You have no idea."

He smirks, laughter falling away.  "Look, Madam Secretary, I don't want to be rude, but - "

"You just want to know why I've called to meet with you," Wanda asks.  "I won't keep you long, don't worry."

David nods.  "No worries, Madam."

"Recently, I've come to a decision," Wanda begins, "and that decision is - I've decided to run for president again.  Against Rogers."

David stares at her with wide eyes, but doesn't speak.

"I know it seems odd - that I would settle for being his secretary, and not run with him.  I just don't wish to be Vice President.  I want to be President, and I'm willing to go through another campaign as rough and hard as the last one to do it."

"Madam Secretary, do you think - ?"

"It's good for my family?" Wanda replies with a knowing smile.  "I don't think it's great for them, no, but my family is very different than it was."

David says nothing for a long minute.  He stares with minimal blinking, and he doesn't break eye contact when he says, "Madam Secretary, why are you telling me this?"

Wanda sighs.  "There have been a great deal of rumors spreading around this city."

"It's not anyone at my office," David says quickly, but Wanda just smiles.

"I know it's not you or anyone who works for you," she assures, and then her eyes change color, growing shades darker, "but I need you to promise me something."

"Of course," David replies.

"Kill the rumors.  Don't let anyone in your office print any stories about me or my career," Wanda orders, and her voice has changed to the one she uses in meetings - powerful and deadly.  "I don't want anyone to suspect anything.  I need to announce this on my own terms, and when I'm ready, if you so desire, you can publish the story.  Do you promise?"

There's an odd look in his eyes when he says it, but he says it nonetheless.  "I promise."

_

10.

Burying both his boots in the mud, Billy keels over and leans heavily on his thighs.  He takes several exaggerated, deep breaths, and then coughs.

"I think I have asthma."

Both Pietro and Tommy scoff.

"You're pathetic," Tommy mutters.  Billy heaves another breath and Tommy looks to him with a smirk.  "Wanna race?"

Billy glares at him.  "Ha, ha," he sneers.  He straightens up and makes a show of wiping sweat from his forehead.  "Do you guys seriously not get tired?  I mean - hiking isn't like running on a track."

"I feel like I'm crawling," Tommy drawls.

"Well, you know - you two can just like race up to the top of this thing and I can just - go back to the cottage.  I don't wanna ruin your fun or anything."

"Billy," Pietro warns.

Billy's surprised Pietro can even hear them talking considering he's like five hundred feet down the path.  He huffs and straightens up.  A backward glances catches his brother - catches his brother on his cell phone.

"Thomas Maximoff," Billy scolds.

Tommy looks up, hands freezing around his screen.  "What?"

"I'm sober.  That means you have to be off your phone."

"I'm texting Kate.  She misses me."

"Likely story."

"I swear - "

Billy makes a dive for Tommy's phone, but Tommy, fucking speedster, is way ahead of him and backs out of the way.  Billy grins something mischievous.  He brings his hands up and feels the tug in his abdomen.

IwantTommy'sphoneIwantTommy'sphoneIwantTommy'sphone -

The device comes racing towards Billy's open palms and a quick wave of his arms throws the phone over the side of the mountain.  Tommy runs to the side of the path, skidding on the crumbling rocks.  His mouth is wide open and his eyes are furious.

"You motherfucking - "

Billy's laugh is cut short by his brother ramming into his stomach at high speed.  He somersaults over himself backward and unable to draw breath, throws his hands out and desperately hopes that strong enough thought will get him through the spell.  It works, and a forcefield springs around him.  Tommy hits the magical barrier and reels.  The moment Billy lets the forcefield down, someone has him by his ear.

"Ow - what the fuck - "

"You two are children," Pietro hisses.

"Billy threw my phone off the face of the mountain - "

"He was texting someone about the campaign - "

"Like you didn't pop pills the second we got here - "

"I didn't- "

"Boys!"

Both of them shut up, and Pietro lets go.  He looks down into the ravine and smirks.

"Did you really throw his phone down there?"

"Yeah," Billy says.

Pietro laughs and holds up a hand for a high-five.  "Nice."

Billy smacks his hand and laughs again.

"I hate both of you," Tommy growls, hands crossed over his chest.

_

11.

**two years prior //**

"No, no.  Pietro, no - " Tommy almost shouts into the phone.  He pulls it away from his ear and takes a deep breath to regulate himself.  "Pietro, we've gone through this.  You know what's inappropriate and what isn't.  Get yourself together and do the right thing.  Goodnight."

He puts his phone into his pocket and sighs.  The door in front of him is barely shielding the obnoxious music that must be blaring inside his brother's apartment.  And to think Billy had invited him over a quiet night of brotherly bonding.  Tommy knocks on the door anyway.

Billy answers it with a grin and a half full cup of alcohol.  He grabs Tommy by the shoulder.

"Glad you could make it, bro."

Tommy huffs air through  his nose.  "I'm not staying very long."

"Sure you're not," Billy mutters.

"I mean it - "

"Yup.  Too bad," he begins, swinging Tommy around the corner of his couch, "I have a surprise for you."  He grabs the person behind him and pulls her in front.  Tommy blanches.

"Kate?"

She laughs.  "Hey, Tommy."

He rubs at the middle of his forehead.  "I can't believe this."

Kate grabs his hands and pulls her toward him.  "Come on - it's been a long time since we just let loose and had fun."

Billy crops up between with his palm upturned.  In it are small pieces of paper.  "Want some?" he asks with a grin.

Tommy shakes his head.  "No, no, no - "

"Your girlfriend's already had some."

Tommy whirls his head to look at her.  "Kate?  You're on ecstasy?"

She nods excitedly, and Tommy sighs once more.

"How long does it last?"

"Four hours," Billy replies.  "Six if you're lucky."

Tommy looks at his watch, reminding himself that the interview airs at eleven-thirty.  He has time.

"Fine," he mutters, and picks a slip of paper from his brother's hand.

Once it kicks in, the night is a blur.  The only tangible thing is Kate, and Tommy can't get enough of her.  He's never sexual, but he loves the way her mouth feels underneath his sober or not, and he spends hours with his tongue in her mouth.  Billy disappears and reappears, always with a new guy in tow, and once, a girl.

They're sitting in a corner when it happens.

Tommy pulls away for just a second to say, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Kate breathes.

"I'm going to love you forever."

Kate giggles.  "Why don't you make it official?"

"Alright," Tommy says with a shrug.  "Will you marry me, Kate Bishop?  I don't have a ring on me, but we can pick one out tomorrow if you want - "

Kate pulls back, resting her hands on Tommy's chest.  "Wait - are you serious?"

"Yeah," Tommy replies simply.  "Why wouldn't I be?"

Kate laughs again.  "We're both on ecstasy."

"Are you going to feel any different when we're sober?" Tommy asks.  "Because I'm not."

Kate takes a second to think about it, then a smile splits her face.  "No, I'm not.  I want to marry you, Tommy."

"Then let's do it," Tommy laughs.  "Let's get engaged."

Kate giggles as if she can't contain her happiness, and then leans forward, engulfing herself once again in Tommy's arms and mouth.  He holds her tight and vows to himself that he'll never let her go.

_

12.

David knows he should have called first, should have set something up with Verity.  She's the caretaker now, and he knows how hard it is to help Loki normally, let alone with his ex making surprise visits and threatening his psyche.  He hopes he doesn't wreck Loki's mood; their last talk went surprisingly well, and David wants to keep that up.

He gathers himself on the welcome mat, taking a deep breath and straightening his collar.  He knocks on the door and waits.  David expects Verity to open it, but when the door swings open, Loki is standing there shirtless, hair in a messy bun and scratches all over his torso.

"I'm - I'm sorry," David splutters.  "I thought you'd be Verity."

"I did too," Loki says.  "I figured she'd forgotten her key or something."

"I can go - "

"No, no, it's okay," Loki assures.  "It's not like I was busy.  Come on in."

David follows him hesitantly, and shuts the door once he's over the threshold.  He sheds his jacket and puts it on the hook, but nearly misses because he can't stop staring at the scratches and cuts that cover Loki's skin.

"Where is Verity?" David asks.  He steps out of his shoes and pads across the living room to join Loki on the couch.

"She's running a quick errand," Loki replies.

"And this is what you're doing in your alone time?" David asks.   His gaze has caught the broken shaving razor on the coffee table, its blades pried out with a scissors.

"It was a waste of time.  They're too small.  They're not satisfying."

David winces and closes his eyes.  "Loki, you told me you were working at getting better."

Loki huffs.  "Look, if you came here to scold me, please leave.  I've managed not to kill myself and that's a feat in and of itself.  I'm doing the best I can and you don't get to reprimand me for that."

A lump settles in David's throat, and he feels his heart start to race.

"Loki, I'm sorry.  I didn't - I didn't realize how bad things are for you, and I just - I'm worried that if you don't get help fast enough, you'll go back on your word, and I can't - I don't want to lose you."

His head falls, and David makes to cover his face with his hands, but Loki catches his wrist.

"I know I look awful.  I know I don't seem like I'm helping myself with all of this - " he gestures to the cuts on his stomach and chest, "but I'm just trying to stay alive."

"Okay," David whispers, and swallows hard.

"I told you - I'm back at AA, I have appointments with Sam," Loki looks at him with sincerity, and it must be the way his eyebrows are upturned over his drowned eyes, but David believes him.  "I'm really trying, David."

David nods to himself several times, trying to rationalize his fear and say something reassuring.  Loki doesn't need his panic right now, but he just can't help it.  "I'm still scared."

Loki sighs, pulling his legs up to his chest.  "I know.  But you're going to have to do the impossible - trust me."

_

13.

When Tommy wakes up from a nap, he expects to find Billy somewhere near and or on him, complaining about all the space he took up on the couch, but he sees nobody.  He stretches and pushes himself up.  Further investigation reveals that Pietro is sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, but Billy is still yet to be located.  Tommy peaks into both bedrooms and the bathroom, but finds nothing.

"Hey, Pete," Tommy says, rounding the kitchen island, "where's Billy?"

Pietro shrugs, and flips over the newspaper.  "Did you check the bedroom?"

Tommy scoffs.  "Of course I did.  Did he say anything to you?"

Pietro looks up, thoughtful.  "He said he was going for a walk."

"A walk?" Tommy deadpans.  "Pietro, where the hell would he go?"

"I don't know.  Maybe he's finally trying to enjoy this place."

Tommy scoffs again.

"What do you want me to do, Tommy?"

"Look after him, maybe," Tommy snaps.  "Forget it.  I'll find him myself."

His storm out of the house is executed with a door slam.  And just as it does, Tommy realizes he doesn't really have  a plan.  They're in the middle of nowhere in Transia.  Billy couldn't have just picked up and left.  Except he did.  Tommy sighs heavily and resigns himself to speeding through the property first, then he'll head for the road.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to look very far.  There's a small shed about a thousand feet off from the house.  Tommy smells Billy before he sees him, sitting cross legged on the ground, surrounded by pill bottles and burned out joints.  It takes a second for Tommy to realize it, but Billy is also currently holding a packet of white powder in his hand.  Without thinking twice, Tommy knocks it from his grip.

"Billy, what the hell?"

Billy jumps and smacks his head on a bench behind him.  "Tommy! - Jesus, I didn't - what are you doing here?"

"Knocking some sense into you, apparently.  What the hell was that, Billy?  What the hell was that?"

"Cocaine," Billy coughs.

Tommy turns around, a hand coming up to cover his eyes.  "No," he mutters.  "No, no, no, no, no, nope."

"I'm sorry," Billy mumbles.

Tommy whirls back to his brother and towers over him.  "No you're not, Billy.  You’re not sorry one damn bit.  Mom asked you to stay sober for five days - not even a full week.  Just five days, so you go out and find cocaine?  What the fuck?"

"Tommy," Billy whispers.  He coughs again, and Tommy notices just how many joints lay around him.  There's no way he's going to be able to process any of this when he's sober.  Tommy doesn't care.  He's too upset not to yell at his brother.

"Do you have any more cocaine?" Tommy demands.

"No, that's all of it."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Alright what about the joints and the pills?"

"I'll get rid of them, I promise," Billy says, but it comes out as a whine, and Tommy doesn't believe him.

"Billy, I'm going to be honest with you," Tommy starts.  He folds his hands together and clenches his jaw for a just a moment to release some of the tension in his body.  "If you don't sober up real fast, I'm not going to keep covering you with Strange.  I will tell Mom, because frankly, you are far worse than you were last time, and I can't - I can't go through another suicide attempt.  Or - or a success."

"Tommyyyyy," Billy groans.  "I'm not - this isn't about - I'm not going to kill myself.  I'm just - I'm trying to deal with everything before it gets to that point.  I know drinking and drugs isn't the smartest answer, but I - I just need to get back on my feet."

Tommy chokes on the breath he tries to take.  "Billy, at this point, you aren't going to get back on your feet.  You're going to fucking overdose."

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Billy drawls.  "Listen - I'm going to be okay.  I've relapsed, yeah, okay.  I was fine, but then that stupid suicide story came out, and I - I lost it a little, but I'm going to be okay, Tommy.  I just need to get through this trip, and I'll cut back."

"You better fucking promise me," Tommy says through clenched teeth.  He's vibrating now, and his eyes are blurring with tears.

Billy hauls himself up.  He faces his brother and lays his hands on Tommy's shoulders.  "I promise."

"Okay," Tommy breathes, though he doesn't loosen up.  "Okay."

-

14.

**two years prior //**

Tommy hadn't even know he'd passed out when he wakes up, groggy and already hungover.  He's on the floor of Billy's apartment, Kate snoozing next to him.  Billy and some nameless guy are on the couch, sleeping tucked together.  Tommy looks around blearily and catches the time on the cable box. Eleven-forty-three.  He nearly topples over the couch reaching for the remote to turn on the interview.  The channel flips, and Tommy gives himself a shake so he can focus.

Pietro's on the screen, slightly blurry, but that's just Tommy's eyes.  He blinks a few times to try and clear his vision.

"If you could give any advice to voters, what would it be?"

"Oh, Christ," Tommy mutters.  "Come on, Pietro."

"I would tell them to put their sexist bullshit aside and vote for who they really think should be the nominee, not just who has a cock."

Tommy slaps himself in the face before turning the television off.

An hour later, once Kate is safely tucked into bed, and Pietro is just getting home, Tommy barrels through the door.  Erik is startled awake from his place on the couch, and Pietro drops the keys from his grip.  Tommy rounds on him.

"You - "

"Thomas, are you drunk?"

The cab driver would probably say yes, but Tommy gives away nothing.  "No, I'm delightfully sober and incredibly, incredibly angry with you."

"Thomas," Pietro starts, calm yet warning.

"No," Tommy counters.  "No - don't you dare, Pietro.  Don't you dare try to defend yourself.  I told you what to do.  I told you that being vulgar only  brought attention to you, that it hurt Mom, that it smeared her campaign, and did you listen to me?  No."  Tommy only caught one bit of Pietro's interview, and he really doesn't want to know what else his uncle had to say in front of thirty million people.  "I have worked so goddamn hard on this campaign.  I have done everything humanly possible to make Mom the democrat candidate, and because of your selfishness, she's going to lose.  She's going to lose because all you care about is yourself, Pietro.  You've ruined this campaign."

Pietro doesn't say a word.  He looks down at his feet, touches his hand to his lips, and then pulls his gaze back up.  He opens his mouth just a bit, and laughs.  The bastard laughs.

"Thomas, you are so naive," he says with a pity-filled  smile.  "Do you really believe that me saying a couple of choice words has ruined your mother's campaign?"

"The numbers don't lie," Tommy retorts.

"Your mother was doomed from the start," Pietro says, talking down at him.  "She was doomed when she made you campaign manager."

Tommy can feel the blood drain from his face, and his stomach drops to the floor.  For the past two years, Tommy has worked his ass off, and Pietro had encouraged him.  Every time an interview or a debate went their way, Pietro clapped him on the back, congratulated him.  Now Tommy's standing there like the idiot he is, being told he's shit.

"Pietro - "

"You don't know a goddamn thing about politics, Thomas, and I don't know why your mother let you do this.  I'm the one who was actually President.  For two separate campaigns, I was the nominee and the winner, but your mother is too soft to tell you 'no.'  If you really want to know who ruined her campaign, look in the mirror."

Tommy swallows hard.  There are a million things he wants to say, but his throat is closing and Pietro turns his back.  As his uncle walks away, Tommy's left there with a lump settling in his throat and his heart bleeding around his ribs.

-

15.

Wanda's on her way out, pulling her keys from her purse, reciting her speech under her breath when Erik grabs her by the elbow.  She whirls around with an eyeroll ready, but stops when she sees that her father looks sleepless.

"Dad, I have a speech - "

"I know, I know," he says.  "I just - I've been up all night thinking, and I want to apologize, Wanda.  I'm sorry for insulting your motherhood.  I know you're a good mother.  You've done nothing but care for your boys.  You always put them first when the rest of the world doesn't make it easy.  And Wanda - "  He chokes a little, and Wanda leans back.  "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Pietro.  You're right.  I could have done leagues better than I did.  And yet, somehow you two turned out alright.  You're exceptional human beings, and I couldn't be prouder of the two of you.  Lorna, too."

"Dad," Wanda says, voice barely more than a whisper.  "You don't - "

"Yes I do," Erik insists.  "I wasn't a good father, Wanda.  I know that.  I was too preoccupied with my past, never living in the present.  I didn't talk to you enough.  When Pietro - I didn't want to deal with it, Wanda.  All I could think about was Charles, and how it was my fault, and how it was going to be my fault again.  I couldn't look at the two of you without wanting to rip my heart out.  But that's not what you needed.  What you needed was your father to be there and tell you it was going to be okay.  I never did that."

"Dad, seriously," Wanda urges.  Her throat is tight, and her mascara is not waterproof.  "It's okay."

"It's not okay," Erik argues.  He closes the space between them and lays a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder.  "I can't take back what I did.  I can't make up for it.  But I want you to know that I'm here now - for you and your brother, and for my grandsons.  I want my family to be happy."

Wanda gives a watery smile.  "Thank you, Dad.  I'm - I'm sorry, too.  I took out my frustrations on you the other day, and that wasn't okay.  I know you tried your best, and I'm thankful for that.  I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Suβe."

Erik pulls his daughter into a soft hug, and Wanda leans her face into his chest.  The smell of him brings her back decades, and she feels twelve years old again, making up with her father after doing something childish.  Things haven't really changed.

"I want you to follow your dreams, Wanda," Erik says.  "You've always fought so hard to be heard, and I admire it.  I admire the way you go about it.  Fierce and compassionate.  You remind me so much of your mother.  Charles, too."

Wanda smiles, and pulls back.

"Thank you, Dad."

"Kill 'em with your speech."

Wanda huffs a laugh.  "Of course, Dad.  Of course."

_

16.

Tommy leads his brother inside.  He stumbles all the way and then collapses onto the couch.  He sits lopsidedly, leans his head back, and closes his eyes.  Tommy looks pointedly to Pietro, who sits in the same spot and doesn't look up.  Tommy clears his throat.

"Oh," Pietro says, still with his eyes in the paper.  "Good, you found him."

"I found him with pills," Tommy clarifies, harsh.

"Tommy," Billy tries to hiss, but it comes out slurred.

"So much for staying sober," Tommy snaps, and he waits.  He waits for Pietro to look up, to see Billy, to start reprimanding him, but nothing happens.  Nothing at all.  Filled with rage, Tommy zips across the room and swipes the newspaper out from in front of Pietro.  "What the hell is your problem?"

Pietro closes his eyes and shakes his head.  "What do you want me to do, Tommy?  Yelling at him isn't going to solve anything."

"I don't want that," Tommy says through his teeth.  "I want you to just give a shit.  I want anyone in this family to give a shit."

"Thomas - " Pietro starts, soft.

"No, no - I'm tired of hearing bullshit.  I'm tired of it.  Mom won't listen to me, but I figured that at least you'd see sense."  He pounds his fist on the table.  "We can't handle this.  Mom? I don't know how she's going to handle the stress.   Me?  I'm barely holding it together.  And Billy?" Tommy practically shouts as he throws a hand to gesture at his brother.  "Do you think Billy can handle this?  No.  Christ, just look at him.  None of us can.  This - this campaign is going to ruin this family."

"Tommy, just listen - "  Pietro's chair scrapes across the wooden floor as he stands up, and Tommy takes a step backward.

"And you - I'm so tired of whatever act you're putting up.  Ever since you got back, you've been all over the place.  You put Billy down whenever you can, nudging and poking at what a failure you think he is for being an alcoholic, but when he really needs us, when he really needs you - you just ignore him.  You ignore what's happening right in front of your face, and I'm sick of it.  Billy isn't okay.  I'm not okay.  And Mom can't do this.  She can't do this to us because it's not fair.  It's not fair that we have to sacrifice everything.  It's not - "

Tommy doesn't realize he's hyperventilating until Pietro claps a hand on his shoulder.  The vibrations in his muscles come to a stop and he focuses on his breathing.  His lungs are tight, and he has to close his eyes before he can get a grip on himself.  When his mind is calm, he begins the breathing exercises his therapist taught him back in high school.  It takes a couple minutes, but he's okay.

"Tommy, I'm not ignoring everything, I promise," Pietro whispers.  He glances back at Billy.  "The whole reason I planned this trip was so that the two of you could catch a break and just breathe.  Your mom and I care very much that you two are mentally and physically healthy.  Your mom's already called Doctor Kaplan - you remember her? - and scheduled appointments for Billy.  We're not making the same mistakes this time around.  You just have to trust us."

Tommy nods, and takes a slow breath.  There's a pressure in his sinuses that makes him feel like he might burst.  "I'm just really scared for him."

"I know," Pietro says.  He rubs his hand back and forth against Tommy's upper arm.  "But your mom and I are going to take care of him.  And we're going to take care of you if you let us."

Tommy nods, mostly to himself.  "Okay.  I trust you.  I'm - I'm sorry, Uncle Pete."

"It's okay," Pietro promises.  "You just have to stop worrying about your brother and take care of yourself, okay?"

Tommy keeps nodding.  "Okay."

Pietro smiles sadly and then pulls him into a hug.  Tommy, after everything, lets him.

_

17.

When Verity returns, David offers to take Loki off her hands for the night, and given that she's spent the last few weeks keeping him on suicide watch, she's more than happy to let him go, as long as David promises to control himself.  They both know he will.  Loki is too important to both of them to lose over a pride match.

Loki's things are pretty much in the same spot they have been in Verity's spare bedroom.  He leaves them there and only brings a change of clothes for the morning.  He's already in pajamas and it doesn't really matter because he and David are going to have a quiet night.  David's promised a movie and a homemade dinner and maybe some sparkling cider (but definitely not alcohol).

They do all of that and more, and even though they're not drunk, they kind of get carried away with the feeling of being around each other again.  After the movie and cider, they play board games into the early morning and it's positively ridiculous, but neither of them care.  When a dispute arises, they settle it with a pillow fight, and Loki slips, and that's how they end up on top of each other, kissing slow and desperate.

David pauses, and Loki lingers, lips falling open and eyes closed.  A small noise escapes the back of his throat, and David almost gives in.

"We shouldn't do this," he says.  "We - we broke up - and you're - you're - "

Loki opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow.  "I'm what?  Broken?  You knew that when you met me."

"You're not broken," David chides.

"I'm not whole," Loki says with a bitter laugh.

"Broken implies you need to be fixed, " David clarifies.  "And you don't."

Loki's whole demeanor changes at this.  His open mask of self-hatred falls, and he looks at David with wide, vulnerable eyes.  He seems to really take in the words, and then without warning, he's kissing David hard and eager.  He reaches fast for the buttons on David's shirt, and David doesn't have the strength to stop him.  They both want this, and whatever happens from here  they'll figure it out.

_

18.

In the morning, Loki should probably hate himself, but for the first time in a long time, he doesn't.

_

19.

Steve's office door is closed, and Wanda steps up to it as quietly as she can.  Her head feels like it's become detached from her neck, and her stomach might not even exist anymore.  Until this moment, she's been so sure of herself, but know she's thirty-second guessing herself.  She knocks, and the floor tilts.

"Come in."

Wanda knows Steve's been under a lot of stress lately, especially with such a big bill going through the motions.  It certainly shows in his appearance.  His suit jacket is thrown on one of the couches, and his shirt is rumpled, half-untucked, and rolled up to the elbows.  His hair is starting to come out of the gel, and his eyes look like he hasn't slept in days.  However, he still manages to smile when he sees her walk in.

"Wanda, how are you?"

"I've been better," she answers, striding across the room.  "How are you?"

Steve makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs.  He leans back in his seat and folds his hands over his stomach.  "You didn't really come here to ask about my well-being did you?"

Wanda feigns offense.  "Steve how could you think so cruelly of me?"

He smiles.

"I am concerned about your well-being, but you're right, that's not why I'm here."

Steve stands up and rounds his desk.  "Then join me on the couch, Wanda, and we can talk about whatever's on your mind."

Wanda blurts it out before he can even sit.  "I'm running for president again."

He freezes midway through lowering himself, and then collapses into the cushions.  "Alright."

"Against you," Wanda insists, like Steve doesn't get it, but she knows he does.  He just smiles and pats the couch next to him.  Cautious, she joins him.  Her muscles stay taut and she feels more like she's squatting than actually sitting.

"Wanda," Steve starts, "you would make an amazing president.  I would be honored to be beaten by you."

Wanda smiles, but it doesn't reach her ears.  "I'm glad to hear you say that, Steve, but there's something else to this."

Steve sits up straight and peers at her.  "Wanda, what's going on?"

She takes a deep breath.   Her fingers twist unknowingly together.  "I'm worried about my family," she confesses, "and in order to get my campaign going and be the mother I want to be, I need to resign as Secretary of State."

Steve's eyebrows shoot up his head, and he nearly topples off the couch, trying to get himself into a better position.  "Wanda," he chokes, grabbing her knee for support, "there's no way you're resigning.  I need you here."

She shakes her head.  "Steve, I have to."

"N - no," he says, shaking his head.  "Wanda - "

She stands up in a hurry and closes her eyes.  She told herself nothing would deter this decision.  "Steve, I'm sorry.  I'll be handing in my resignation in six weeks time."

Without another word from him, she leaves, not daring to look back and catch the disheartened look on his face.

_

20.

It's mid-afternoon when David brings Loki back to Verity's.  He's happier than he has been, and David watches her pick up on it right away.  David on the other hand, for reasons he can't explain, feels incredibly guilty.  He meant what he said last night.  Loki isn't broken, but David still feels like he took advantage of him, no matter how many times Loki promised this is what he wanted and yes, he knows this doesn't mean they're back together, and yes they might not do this again anytime soon, and yes, he's okay with it.                                  

Loki leaves the room with a, "Well, I'm going to have a shower.  Stay if you want, David."

As soon as he's out of earshot, Verity and David close the distance between them.

"How was he?" Verity asks, at the same time David frantically whispers, "We slept together."

Verity purses her lips, eyes going wide and takes a small step back.  "So is he - ?"

"He's okay," David says.  "Good, I'd say.  At least - better."  He sighs.  "I stopped everything several times just to make sure he was okay, and that he wanted it, and I know I should have stopped it all together, because he's still so vulnerable, but I - I was selfish."

Verity bites her lip, then shrugs.  "I mean - if he was okay with it.  I don't see why not."

"We're not together," David says, peering at Verity like she misheard him.

She shrugs again.  "Loki's always been into casual sex.  Not that yours was exactly casual, but he can do it without feelings.  He's trained himself."

David roughs a hand across his hair.  "God, I'm so worried about him."

Verity nods.  "I am too."

"What are we going to do?" David asks.  "I mean I know he's trying, but I'm - I don't know if what he's doing is going to be enough.  He's been self-harming really bad, and I'm sure he's managed to sneak alcohol."

"I think I should call Thor," Verity says quietly.

"Isn't Loki extremely against that?" David asks.  "What if that just made things worse?  What if he reacted badly?"

"He wouldn't react badly if he didn't know it was our doing."

David narrows his eyes.  "What are you saying?"

"Thor calls ahead, says he's just visiting.  Loki will try to act like he's okay, but we both know he always lets Thor in."

A hesitant smirk toys at David's lip.  "You know, I think that just might work."

_

21.

It's the last day of the trip, and Tommy would almost believe it's been a success.  He watched Billy flush his pills and weed down the toilet, as well as that packet of cocaine, and although he's been grumpy, at least he's stayed sober.  And Tommy?  Tommy feels okay.  He knows things aren't going to magically get better, but he can stow some confidence in his mother and his uncle.

"Hey, Pietro," he says at breakfast.

"Yes?"

"I know I'm not really supposed to be thinking about this, but I'd say we're all doing okay and it might be the best time to break the ice."

Pietro turns around slowly, pan of sausage in hand.  "Oh, god."

"No, no, it's fine," Tommy insists.  "I just wanted to run by some campaign ideas by you."

Pietro sets the pan down on the counter.  "Alright.  Shoot."

"Family-focused.  So America gets a taste of the past.  They get to see Billy and I grown up.  They see us supporting our mother and her supporting us.  And you - you're a part of the family again.  I want them to see us as we really are.  An honest-to-God family with its ups and downs.  Except for one thing.  You don't get a single solo interview.  We can't have a repeat of last time."

He laughs to himself, but Pietro doesn't crack a grin at all.

"Tommy," he says, voice quiet, and Tommy realizes his mistake.

"Pietro, I didn't - I wasn't trying to bring up bad blood - "

"I know," Pietro says.  He pulls out the chair next to his nephew and sits down.  "I just feel like we have some reconciling to do."

Tommy winces.  "We don't have to.  We can just ignore it."

"No," Pietro says, firm.  "No, we can't.  Because I wasn't fair to you."

Tommy shakes his head.  "No, no, Pietro - "

"I blamed the failure of the campaign on you," Pietro continues.  "I haven't forgotten that, as I'm sure you haven't.  I'm sorry for that, Thomas.  You had nothing to do with the failures of the campaign.  It was all of us.  All of us working together with drastically different ideas, and it - it was your grandfather who gave me the advice.  And it's - it is a well-known tactic, but it's rather outdated."

Eyebrows knitting together, Tommy looks at his uncle with confusion.  "What are you talking about?"

"The vulgarity.  The stealing the limelight - I - I wasn't trying to be selfish, though I do admit that I liked being the center of attention.  It was just - your grandfather was looking at the numbers one evening, and he told me that I had to get the attention of voters in any way possible, even if it made me look bad.  And if I did look bad, well - at least your mother got the attention, and at least she was seen as the savior attempting to pull her brother out of a political slump."  He sighs, slapping his hands against his thighs.  "I know you might not believe me, but - "

"Oh, I believe you," Tommy interrupts.  "That idea coming from Granddad?  I believe that one hundred percent."

Pietro laughs.  "I suppose I shouldn't have trusted someone whose politics landed him in jail.  I was desperate to help."

Tommy nods.  "We all were, and I'm sorry too, Pietro.  I blamed everything on you, when it was my own insecurities that made me a terrible campaign manager."

"You weren't terrible," Pietro scolds.  "For someone as young as you are, you were quite impressive, actually."

Tommy's smile is awkward, but it's a smile nonetheless.  "Thanks."

"And I have the utmost faith in you this time around," Pietro adds.

A blush creeps up Tommy's neck.  "I don't know - I've been so against this, but I'm starting to feel confident that not only can we keep the family together, but we could win this too."

_

22.

They meet in the same parking lot - which might be stupid, but it was last minute and Tommy is still jetlagged.   It's night, so hopefully no one will recognize them.  Hopefully, everyone would just pass it off as a drug deal, and not a D.C. scandal about to take place.

David looks about as tired as Tommy feels.

"Rough week for you, too?" he asks.

David shakes his head as he stares at his feet.  "You have no idea."

"I'll make this quick," Tommy promises.  "I've been having second thoughts."

Head snapping up, David asks, "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to publish anything prematurely.  I don't - I don't want to sabotage my mother anymore."

David lets out a huff of air through his nose.  "Tommy," he begins.  "You gave me an incredible story - I can't - I can't just let that slide."

"You can still have it - "

"No I can't," David argues.  "Not unless you give me exclusive rights."

"Exclusive rights?" Tommy gawks.

"You tell no one - no journalists, no press, no one who could let slip to press, no one you can't trust to keep quiet.  Only me.  I want an exclusive interview with your mother, and I want to print the story the night before she makes the announcement."

Tommy exhales loudly.  "David - "

"That's the deal, or I'm not promising anything."

Tommy chews on his cheek.  "Fine.  Deal."

 


	4. Episode 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: this chapter is just full of suicidal ideation, experimentation/exploitation of mutant powers (1, 5, 9), alcohol consumption (4, 13, 14), depictions of a disaster (9), talk of past sexual assault (11), ableism (13, 18), graphic depictions of suicide attempts (15,18)
> 
> This is hard chapter, friends. Please, please heed the warnings. I love you all!

1.

**six months prior //**

_"Doctor Stephen Strange, known to the world as the prime superhero consultant, has just announced a new form of consultation.  He's following in the footsteps of the late Charles Xavier and opening his own training practice.  Strange, however, promises it is not a school.  His practice is less of a commitment, and centered solely on helping young sorcerers develop their powers and hone them.  He says of his process, 'It's unique, a mix of the trainings I went through.  I've taken the best and the most helpful processes and with years and years of research, sculpted a sort of program that will really help these kids find the true source of power within themselves.  It's certainly something more on the psychological side.  You know, I learned from the very best.  I've produced my powers from something outside myself, but I want to teach people of all origins - people like myself, mutants, Inhumans - anyone who is willing to take on a different approach to magic."_

Wanda frowns at the television.  "I just don't know about that man.  He runs on greed."

"Yeah, but - but do you really think he would take on that kind of responsibility without knowing what he's doing?" Billy asks from his spot at the dining table.  He's stringing together garland against his wishes; his mother is much too practiced at manipulation.  "I mean he has trained with, like . . . way too many other sorcerers."

"I don't know."  Wanda shakes her head.  "He just rubs me the wrong way."

"Yeah, he's kind of a douche," Billy agrees.  "But he is the Sorcerer Supreme.  At least I hope he knows what he's doing."

Wanda gives a "hmph."

Billy feels his stomach start to churn.  The real reason he sincerely hopes Strange isn't bullshitting his way through this new program of his is because Billy is one of the first students.  He's already gone to six meetings, and it's been a lot of talk, a lot of Strange urging Billy just to feel.  Billy doesn't even know what the hell he's looking for.  His powers set in when he was twelve on the school playground, and he's done nothing with them since.

"Billy focus," Strange urges.  "Keep your eyes closed.  You've had your power your entire life.  You know it.  You know it."

Billy huffs.  "Doctor, listen - "

"Billy, you've been working so hard.  All you need to do now is feel.  Let your subconscious take over.  Let it come forward."

"I don't even understand what I'm supposed to be doing.  Am I doing a spell or what - ?"

"Shhhh.  You know what you're supposed to be doing.  You haven't touched your power yet.  Touch it, feel it, hold it."

Billy resigns himself to silence.  Strange has been great so far, teaching him all these different ways sorcerers have shaped their powers over the centuries.  All the spells, the power-surging, the teleportation, the telekinesis - all of it.  And Billy hasn't done a single thing.  He can't even call upon his powers.

"Billy, you know what it feels like.  You do."

He squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter and lets himself relax.  It's hard when he's sitting in such an uncomfortable chair with all these weird wires wrapped around his wrists, but he relaxes.  The tension leaves his body, and he feels.

He starts with his head, listens to the buzz in his ears.  His brain sounds like electricity, but maybe that's just the wires.  In his chest, he feels the blood pumping.  He notices the heat under his skin like he never has before, and then moves on.  That's when he feels it.  The tug in his abdomen.  The hot, pulsing expanse of raw power.  His extremities tingle.

"Billy," Strange whispers.  "Billy, open your eyes."

He does, and his hands are glowing a bright, steady blue.

_

2.

Teddy's apartment feels like home.  It's warm, and cozy, and most importantly, it's substance free.  Anywhere else in the world, it would drive Billy crazy not to at least have something in reach, but here, all he needs is Teddy.  When he's wrapped in his boyfriend's arms, he just feels safe.

Last night, Billy slept over.  They've only been dating for a few weeks, but it's felt like years.  And they might as well be, since Billy has spent more time at Teddy's than his own place.  They're on the couch as usual, limbs sprawled everywhere, and not exactly sure whose are whose.                                                      

Teddy lays a hand on Billy's thigh (they're pretty sure).  "Look, Billy - you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, no," Billy protests.  "I want to."

"Well, I'll listen as long as you want to talk.  If you decide you want to stop, I won't pressure."

Billy smiles, taking Teddy's hand and giving it a squeeze.  "I mean - there's not a whole lot to the story.  At least - besides what I've told everyone in AA.  I started training with him seven-ish months ago.  I'd never really used my powers, so it was all new.  And he - he really helped me a lot."

"That's good."

"Yeah, it was.  It made me happy.  But then things started getting out of control when he kept testing me.  He hooked me up to different machines and had me do things with my powers that I wasn't ready to do.  My - my mom was furious with both me and him, but I didn't want to quit.  At the time, I would have done anything to develop my powers.  I felt like I'd been cheated out of something because my mom never taught me any of that.  Suddenly, I could cast spells and move things with my mind and fucking fly - it was amazing."  His smile falters, and he feels his blood run cold.  "But, Strange got carried away, and he pushed me too far.  The accident - it was catastrophic.  I lost control, and I - I almost killed several people.  My mom didn't waste any time telling me that she told me so, and that I should be ashamed of myself for continuing to go behind her back.  I was.  Of course I was.  I - I almost killed people.  My family blamed it on my drinking and pill addiction, but I'd been sober for months.  They didn't believe me, and I just - I fell into an even worse depression.  I was alone on Christmas Eve.  My entire family was gone, and I just - I couldn't shake it.  So I tried to kill myself."     

Teddy squeezes his hand tight, and rubs his thumb over Billy's veins.  A turn of logic, Billy guesses, makes him slide up Billy’s sleeve, overturn his wrist, and after he examines the large, angry scar carefully, press three gentle kisses down the length of it.  When he pulls away, Billy's crying.

"Billy?" Teddy breathes.  "Do you really believe what happened was your fault?"

"It was my powers," he chokes.

"No, no," Teddy whispers.  "Strange pushed you.  You said so yourself."

"His - his program was based on psychological assets," Billy sniffs, and wipes at his nose with his sleeve.  "I don't believe for one second that the accident wasn't based on the drinking and the pills all those years, and - and the - "

"Billy, stop," Teddy says, firm but gentle.  He grips Billy by the shoulders, thumbs softening into his skin.  "It wasn't your fault."

Billy's lip trembles, and he shakes his head.  He wishes he could believe Teddy.  "Even - even though I was sober, I still fucked up.  I'm still a fuckup, Teddy.  I was at my happiest and my psyche wasn't enough to control my powers.  They just - they exploded out of me Teddy, and you don't - you don't know what was happening in my mind when they did.  I can't - I can't even explain, but I know there's something wrong inside me, something all twisted up and warped beyond recognition.  I'm - I'm a monster, Teddy, and that's all there is to it."

Teddy shakes his head.  "I don't - I don't understand, Billy.  You're back with Strange now.  You're doing just fine.  How can you believe that - ?"

Billy huffs.  "Because this one isn't about psyche.  This project is just about the biology of my powers.  Where they came from and how I'm supposed to use them."

"Do you still believe that you're - you're a fuckup if you're doing so well?"

Billy laughs, dry and humorless.  "Teddy, I'm not even sober half the time."

_

2.

They've finally chosen a different meeting spot - a quiet park, no one in sight except for two Secret Service agents.  David has an extra cup of coffee waiting for Tommy when he sits down.  He accepts it with gratitude and then takes a careful sip.

"I needed that," he remarks.  "I'm running on almost empty."

"Your mom have a lot for you to do?" David asks.

Tommy has to think about that for a moment.  "I mean, yes - but it's only as much as everyone else."

David winces.  "The engagement?"

Tommy nods.  "And trying to keep my brother sober, working with my uncle, putting up with my grandfather."  Every task is accentuated by Tommy flipping a finger.  "I swear this family gets crazier and crazier every day."  He sighs heavily then gives David an apologetic look.  "I'm sorry.  You don't need to hear me complain."

David waves a hand.  "It's all interesting to me.  Getting to know the background information to a story only makes for a better article."

Tommy's coffee tastes sour.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose."

"So what's the campaign front look like so far?" David asks, and all the friendliness in the air dissipates.

"Well, honestly, we're just running different angles right now, trying to figure out what are the most important things for my mom to highlight about both herself personally and her political desires.  As you know, I'm co-managing with Pietro.  We've just started contacting people we can trust to keep everything a secret for help."

"Like who?" David presses.

Tommy forces a laugh.  "What, you're not going to interview them are you?"

David shrugs, and a sinking feeling takes over Tommy's stomach.

"Uh - well so far we've got Doug Ramsey, Katherine Pryde, and a few other people who have yet to reply."

"That's it?"

"The people you can trust in Washington is a very small list," Tommy says pointedly, and he's seriously starting to wonder if David even comes close.

"Has your mother told President Rogers yet?" David asks.

"I think so," Tommy replies, doing his best to make himself seem frazzled and uncollected.

"What did he have to say?"

Tommy scratches the back of his head.  "I don't - I don't really know.  My mother didn't tell us anything."

"So, do you think it went badly?"

"I don't know," Tommy sighs.  "I haven't had much contact with my mother lately.  It's been really hectic at home and at work."

"She really didn't say anything to you?"

"David," Tommy says sharply.  "That's all I have for you."  He looks at his watch and sets down the half-full cup of coffee.  "Now, I believe that's all the time I allotted for this chat.  I'll see you next week."

He walks away, strides long and purposeful.  His security flanks him on either side, and his blood starts to boil at the sting of regret of ever getting David involved in this fiasco.

_

3.

Wanda has barely sat down when everyone starts talking at each other.  Normally, she would be used to that since men in Washington can't ever keep their mouths shut, but this is an emergency meeting, and it would be helpful if anyone could hear what the hell was being said.

"Hold on, hold on!" she yells over them.  "Can we just establish the actual situation first?"

"A sinking Russian submarine off the coast of San Diego," someone reports.  "The crew is from the neo-Nazi political party, Hydra.  And we have spies aboard."

Wanda bites her lip.  "And we're not supposed to know about this, are we?"

"No."

She only takes a moment to think and then declares her position.  "We have to rescue them."

"It's not that easy, Madam Secretary."

"Yes it is," Wanda argues.  "We have important people aboard that submarine.  We're not just going to let them die when we have the means to save them."

"Those people knew what they were getting into, Madam Secretary, " a new voice says from behind her.  Wanda turns around in her chair as Colonel Maria Hill steps into the room.  "They're prepared to sacrifice their lives."  She takes the seat across from Wanda and folds her hands together.  "I fully believe we shouldn't interfere."

The beginnings of a headache begin to pulse behind Wanda's eyes.  "With all due respect, Colonel, I disagree.  We could easily hide the identities of the spies.  We have Naval bases all across the coast.  It isn't impossible for sonar to just happen to spot the submarine."

"There is a crew of one-hundred-and-thirty, Madam.  We only have three spies aboard.  No one will miss the remaining one-hundred-and-twenty-seven."

Wanda leans back in her set.  Jaw set, she taps her fingers against the table.  "So this is about a secret victory."

"That's only part of it," Hill corrects.  "Hydra isn't supposed to be there.  If they know we know, there will be trouble."

"There will be trouble if they know we know, and we don't do something."

Hill sighs.  "You won't win this, Madam Secretary.  Quit now while you're ahead."

_

4.

Billy's hand is probably really sweaty, but Teddy is holding it anyway, and he's smiling so big that Billy chooses to ignore any possible negativities and holds Teddy's hand right back.  He giggles.  He fucking giggles as he drags Teddy along and leads him through the door.

"Mom, Pietro, and Tommy are all at work, and I'm pretty sure Granddad had an appointment today, so it's all ours."

"You know," Teddy remarks.  "Most people aren't this excited to see their boyfriend's mom's place, but considering your mom is Secretary of State."

"The place is amazing, I know," Billy smirks.  "I would probably still be living here if my family didn't drive me crazy and I didn't need somewhere private for us to have sex."

Teddy grins and raises an eyebrow.  "Are you saying that's not what we're doing today?"

"Absolutely not."

Both Teddy and Billy jump out of their skin as Erik strolls into the room, dressed in only his bathrobe.

"Want a drink, boys?" Erik asks.

"Uh - " Teddy stammers.  "We're not - "

"Is this how you're getting your kicks now?" Billy asks, taking a seat at the bar. "Tempting recovering alcoholics?"

Erik looks around at Teddy.  "Oh, so you're one too?"  He holds up his glass of freshly-poured scotch.  "Welcome to the club."

Teddy gives an awkward, unsure smile.

"He's my sober partner," Billy explains.

Erik nods.  "And partner partner, I presume."

"Yeah, that too."  He looks back at Teddy and motions for him to come forward.  "Teddy, meet the infamous ex-felon, mein Groβvater, Erik Lehnsherr, codename: Magneto."

Erik slaps him on the arm.  "Leave the past in the past, boy."

Billy snorts.  "Like you ever do."

Erik glares at him for a long, hard second before he winks.  "Enjoy yourselves, boys."  He turns, and Teddy watches him leave in both awe and apprehension it would seem.

Billy laughs.  "What are you thinking?"

"And I thought your family couldn't get any crazier."

"Oh, it gets worse," Billy promises.  He hops off the stool and walks over to Teddy.  "So, Granddad slept with this Rromani-Transian girl before getting carted off to the big house, and while he was there, my mom and Pietro were born.  Magda was poor, so these well-off Rromani immigrants who knew her - the Maximoffs - adopted them.  Then when my granddad got out he filed for custody, and somehow, with a criminal record and a sketchy relationship with the government, won."

"How the hell did your mom and uncle become eligible politicians when their heritage is so screwed up?" Teddy asks.

Billy shrugs.  "Granddad came here when he was really young.  He's been a citizen almost his whole life.  Magda was a citizen too, and both my mom and Pietro were born on American soil, so - ?  The part that really gets me, though, is that we're all Jewish-Rromani mutants.  How we became the most beloved family in America is beyond me."  He scrunches his nose and lets a beat pass.  "Although we are pretty hated, too."

Teddy just stares at him for a long moment.  His expression is thoroughly perplexed and overwhelmed.  "Jesus Christ," he mutters.

Billy laughs.  "I know."  He bites his lip and takes Teddy's hand again.  "Come on, I'll show you my old bedroom."

Teddy blushes, but doesn't hesitate.

_

5.

**six months prior //**

The tug is strong.  Billy can feel the power surging inside his veins, but it's stuck.  He can't release it and when it peaks, he feels it fizzle out.  His hands burn as the glow dims, and exhaustion overcomes him.  Neither him nor Strange understand why this is happening.  He’s been improving for weeks, but now he's at a standstill, and only growing worse.

He lets out a loud groan.  "Can I be done for today?  I'm starting to feel nauseous."

Strange nods absently.  "Cool down.  Rest for a moment, then we'll record."

Billy undoes the wires and leans back in his seat.  He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, letting all the remnants of power purge his system.

"Hmmm," Strange mutters, and Billy knows without looking that he's looking through every file at his disposal.

"What?" Billy asks.  He sits up and opens his eyes.

"You're the only student I have who's been suppressing his powers for thirteen years.  Everyone else has experimented."

Billy gives a dry laugh.  "Yeah, well, I'm enough of a freak being a Jewish, gay first son with a drinking problem."

"No, no, I'm not blaming you for anything," Strange assures.  "It just seems that suppression has had a rather unfortunate effect on your powers.  I previously thought powers could develop and sit stagnant, but yours have regressed."

Billy feels his stomach drop.  "What does that mean?"

Strange doesn't answer.  He continues looking through his data, making noises of affirmation and interest.

"Dr. Strange?" Billy pushes.

He holds up a finger, telling Billy to hush.  He reads something over before looking up with wide eyes.  "Billy?"

"What?"

"I was wondering if you might help me with some experiments?"

Billy shifts his weight, feeling alarmed.  He's suddenly very aware of all the places the wires were pressed to his skin.  "You want to experiment on me?"

Strange shakes his head.  "With you.  I want to monitor your powers more closely.  With your consent, of course."

The tightness in his chest screams for Billy to really think about this.  He doesn't know how much closer Strange can monitor him.  He's been hooked up to wires for weeks.  Still, the thought that his powers have regressed makes him angrier and only more eager to test his abilities.  He's not about to give up a chance to learn what he's capable of.

"I'll do it."

_

6.

Hill is already sitting with and talking to Steve when Wanda arrives at his office, and something odd stirs inside Wanda's chest.  Keeping herself collected, she sits down on the couch across them and clears her throat.  Steve immediately gives his attention to her.

"Good afternoon," Wanda says politely.

"Let's cut to the chase," Maria says, and Wanda is thankful.  She doesn't have the time to waste beating around the bush.

"We rescue the spies at least," Wanda urges.

Hill sighs, but Steve is listening.  "How do you propose that, Madam Secretary?"

"By now they're isolated.  We station a rescue vehicle far enough away and send a single rescuer in."

Hill scoffs.  "You're suggest we send a lone diver in to secretly enter the sinking submarine and pull three men out without anyone noticing."

"Well, that's the best I've got if you're set on killing all these Russian men," Wanda snaps back.

"Madam Secretary, with all due respect, this idea is nearly impossible to carry out - "

"That's - that's not true," Steve says, holding up a hand to silence her.  His eyebrows are knit together in concentration.  "We do have superhumans at our disposal, as well as mutants, lest I remind you.  There is no doubt a man for the job."

"Even if we find someone for the job, how on Earth can we keep it secretive?" Hill asks.  "I've told you both - the men who took this job knew they might have to sacrifice their lives.  They swore to keep their identities to the grave if need be, and if we go in, their jobs will have been for nothing."

"Nonsense," Steve says.  "We've gotten hoards of information from them."

Hill sighs heavily again.  "I really don't see this rescue happening."

"Why not?" Wanda asks.  "We have a perfectly plausible plan."

"Listen, let me just - let me talk to Agent Barnes, alright," Steve puts in.  "If his opinion is good, we'll start forming a rescue team.  If not - then we'll hold a proper funeral for these men and issue well-deserved awards for service."

"Mister President - " Hill stutters.

"I'm going to talk to Agent Barnes," he interrupts.  "You may go, ladies."

Wanda barely conceals a smile as she stands up and dusts off her skirt.  Not even throwing a glance in Hill's direction, she exits the room, once again filled with the sense of accomplishment she can only gain from winning.

_

7.

Teddy's just gotten back to his apartment - like just walked through the door and slipped one shoe off when his phone rings.  He hobbles out of the other one and pulls his phone out of his jacket.

Billy Maximoff ♥

Answer                        Decline

Surprised and slightly worried, he picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Teddy," Billy says, and he doesn't sound very cheerful.  He sounds irritated as hell.

"Whoa - what's wrong?" Teddy asks.

"Nothing," Billy replies.  "I am just calling - " he coughs " - to inform you that my family has invited you to dinner this weekend.  Please dress formally and - Granddad, honestly, shut up."

Voices in the background murmur and Teddy has to hold in a laugh.

"Dinner's at eight," Billy continues.  "I'll pick you up at seven, okay?"

"Okay," Teddy replies, and he knows the smile in his voice is obvious.

"You're such a bastard," Billy mutters.  Someone howls on the other end.  "Get out of here!"

Teddy can't hold in the laugh this time.

"I'm going to die, please," Billy whines.  "Don't let my family hinder your opinion of me.  I'm going to apologize right now for how awful this night is going to be.  I - honestly - you might be scarred for life."

Teddy rolls his eyes.  "Oh, B - it won't be that bad."

"No, you don't understand - "

"Family dinners?" Teddy asks.  "I totally understand, Billy.  My parents were basically Romeo and Juliet, and as their only child, I'm the last remaining heir to both of their competing companies.   Family dinners are hell in my family."

"You've never had dinner at the White House," Billy replies.

"True, but you don't live there anymore," Teddy points out.

"I might as well, Teddy.  I might as well."

Teddy just laughs again.  "I'll be okay.  It's going to be just fine, and no, I'm not going to let your family change what I think of you.  Well, maybe - "

"Teddy!"

"Relax.  I just assume embarrassing stories will be told, and I'm going to think you're so much cuter than you already are."

Billy lowers his voice and says sourly, "I hate you."

"I love you too, B."

Someone in the background shouts, "DID HE SAY THE L-WORD?"

Billy groans as loud as possible.  "Kill me."

"Not a chance."

"I'm going to go shove my head in the oven.  Bye, Teddy."

"Stay safe," Teddy says out of habit.  "Love you."

"Love you too, T."

Before Billy hangs up, Teddy can hear a muffled, "I'm going to fucking kill you, Tommy."

_

8.

Loki's half asleep when he hears his phone vibrating from underneath his pillow.  A loud groan rumbles in his throat as he fishes his phone out of its nestled spot in the sheets.  He looks to the screen prepared to chew David out for calling him so early in the morning (it's noon), but it's not David calling him.  It's Thor.  He almost drops his phone but somehow manages to answer it nonetheless.

"Thor?"

"Good afternoon, brother," he says cheerfully, and Loki grimaces.

"What - what do you want?" Loki asks.

Thor laughs.  "I can't just call you for the hell of it?"

"You rarely do," Loki points out.  He throws his covers off himself and slowly swings himself around to get out of bed.  "So - what's going on, Thor?  Why are you calling me at noon on a Friday?"

Thor sighs.  "Can we not just hold a conversation?"

"No," Loki replies.

"I'm visiting," Thor says.  "I've missed you, Loki, and I - I want to see you."

Panic swells inside Loki's chest almost instantly.  He looks around at the contents of Verity's guest room, stricken, and feels all the air leave his lungs.  How the hell is he going to explain his current state to his overprotective and overly-invested big brother.

"When?" he asks hurriedly.

"I'll be there by tonight, maybe tomorrow morning," Thor replies.

"Shit," Loki hisses under his breath.  "Had you not thought to call sooner?"

"I was afraid you'd bar yourself up from me," Thor says, and Loki can't help but think to himself that Thor is definitely right.  He doesn't have time hide now.

"I don't - I don't live with David anymore," Loki starts.  His face scrunches up, and he rubs, irritated, at his  skin.  "We broke up, and I'm staying with my friend, Verity."

"I'm staying in a hotel, anyway," Thor reassures.  "I figured we could meet up somewhere first before I invade your space."

"It's a little too late for that," Loki mutters.

"Loki."

"I know, I know," Loki huffs.  "I've been avoiding you for six months, and you just want to see me."

"Correct.  I love you, brother."

Loki hums.

"I won't bother you any longer.  I shall see you tonight, Loki."

"See you then," Loki says through clenched teeth.  He hangs up without another word and collapses back onto the bed.  He rolls over, and after inhaling a deep breath, screams frustration into the comforter.

_

9.

**six months prior //**

"Billy, I want you to push your powers to the maximum.  I want to see if you can completely dissolve the short, little bursts.  I think you're afraid of what you can do, but I want you to forget that.  Push the limit, Billy."

Billy's already sweating.  His muscles are sore beyond belief, and if he tries any harder, he's afraid he's going to vomit.  Being inside this chamber, barely able to see through for wires and controls doesn't help, and he's about ready to just give up.  He's too tired.

"That's it, Billy.  I can see the meter rising.  Push yourself."

Billy closes his eyes so tightly he thinks they must have rolled permanently into the back of his head.  His gut is burning, but he pulls harder, calling upon his powers with all the strength he can muster.

"More, Billy.  More!"

His veins feel like they're on fire, but he ignores it.

IwanttobeaSorcererIwanttobeaSorcererIwanttobeaSorcererIwanttobeaSorcerer...

Screams fill his ears, and he doesn't know if it's his own or the roar of the equipment he's attached to.  The chamber has turned into an inferno, and Billy can't breathe.  The odd thing is he doesn't think he even needs to.  Time is slowing, and he feels like he's ascended to another, higher dimension of being.  Somewhere in the distance, Strange is shouting, but Billy can't make out the words.  His heart continues to pump, faster and faster, breathing in fire and shooting out even more flames until -

There's a surge, a flash, and eruption, and for a moment, Billy thinks he's died.  The world around him is black, and when he comes to, all he can see is the fire, still licking at him.

"Billy?  Billy, can you hear me?  Billy?"

He tries to open his mouth, but it doesn't listen to his brain.  He's lying on the ground, he realizes, and above him is the sky, filled with stars and smoke.  Billy coughs, and  his lungs feel like they've been shredded.

"Mr. Maximoff?  Mr. Maximoff?"

"Billy, talk to me."

He coughs again, and again, and again until he's doubled over, shrouded in pain and blood.

"Billy?"

"I'm - I'm o - what happened?"  He looks around, completely dazed, and that's when it hits him.  They're in the middle of ruins.  Strange's facility, tumbled to pieces.  "Oh my god," he breathes.  He pushes himself up painfully.

"Billy, don't - you're hurt."

The screams he heard while in the chamber grow louder, and the ground starts to fall underneath his feet.  He turns around in a circle, breath failing as he takes in the sight before him.  Fire, smoke, and blood.  Paramedics are rushing around and firefighters are trying to put out the flames.  Sirens sound in the distance.

"I - "

"Billy, please - stay still.  You're injured."

He ignores Strange and walks on, his entire world sinking.  The fires dance in his eyes, taunt him and burn him from the inside out.  He can't breathe, and black spots crowd his vision.

"Billy."

He keeps stumbling forward.

A woman is rushed past him on a gurney, covered in blood.

"Billy!"

He quickens his pace, and he doesn't slow.  He runs, choking on the words as he repeats them over and over.

"What have I done?  What have I done?   _What have I done?"_

_

10.

The sun is shining directly on Billy's eyelids but he doesn't flinch.  The spot in the grass is comfortable, and this is his favorite exercise.  It's been such a change to let his powers find him, and he likes the peace it brings.  His fingertips tickle with electricity, and he swirls them around absently, feeling the surges that sting through the air.

"You've made such an improvement, Billy," Strange remarks.  He sits just five feet away from Billy, scrawling notes on a notepad.  "How do you feel?"

Billy smiles.  "Good."

"You can sit up now."

Billy does, but he doesn't stop the movements of his hand.  Sparks and flashes dance across his fingers, and it makes him feel like there's a firework show going off in his palm.

"I don't know how you've done it," Strange continues.  "But you've mastered a sense of control I haven't seen from anyone in a long time."

Billy lets the electricity fizzle out.

"Honestly, I think it's the new program.  Whatever you've done, Doctor, it's helped.  I don't feel like I'm at war with my powers anymore.  I feel like they're working with me."

Strange smiles too.  "You don't know how good that is to hear, Billy."

"Trust me," Billy says, and swallows hard.  "You don't know how good it is to be able to say that."

_

11.

Kate knows the mixed feelings everyone has about David Alleyne, but she can't really bring herself to care when her organization is finally going to be getting such big and positive publicity.  She imagines the potential donations, the potential food and clothes and safe places, the smiles on the women's faces.  If she has to give an interview with a morally ambiguous journalist, then it might as well just be another day.

David meets her in the park.  She's working on her current to do list for the organization, and the smile that splits her face makes it obvious how excited she is.

"Hi, Kate," David says as he steps up to her.  He holds out his hand.  "I know I've been around, but I don't think we've ever formally met."

"No, no, we haven't," Kate says and gives his hand a shake.  "Kate Bishop - soon to be Maximoff."

"David Alleyne," he replies.  "It's nice to finally meet you, Kate.  It's been such a crazy month."

"You can say that again," Kate laughs.  She folds her hands together over her notes to keep them from shaking or straying.

"So, Kate," David begins.  His voice changes from friendly to professional.  "Just tell me a little bit about what you do."

"Well, The Hawkeye House is an organization, as you probably know, for survivors of domestic abuse and assault.  We're there for all identifying females who have experienced violence at the hands of men and otherwise.  We just want to provide help and support for women who need a safe place to be and we help them get back on their feet and back into the world safely."

David smiles as he jots a couple notes down.  "Can you tell me how you got started?  Like, what made you want to start an organization like this, and how did you go about building it up?"

"Well," Kate begins, and she almost forgets that not every person knows what she's about to say.  It's become such an ingrained part of her that it feels strange to say it.  "When I was sixteen, I was sexually assaulted.  I did not know the man - which is a rare case, but it was traumatizing nonetheless.  I went through endless amounts of psychotherapy and dealt with a lot of self-hatred.  I self-harmed for years, even after I started taking self-defense classes.  I was lucky.  I was able to heal and empower myself after something like that, and I want to help other women to do the same.  It was relatively easy to get started compared to what some other organizations go through.  My family is very wealthy, and I've inherited a lot of money.  The volunteers I found through my own support network, and given that we were all so passionate, it was an easy startup.  The hardest part has actually been serving people.  So many women are terrified to accept help from us, and the most important thing to me today, is to get the message out that we're here to provide safety and support.  All of our living quarters are secret.  Our support groups are managed by exceptional psych associates, and we have plenty of connections throughout the community to help you get back in the world."

"Great, great.  That's so wonderful," David murmurs to himself.  "And tell me, Kate, where do you see The Hawkeye House going in the future?"

"We just want to expand," Kate answers, maybe a little over-excitedly.  "We want to arm ourselves with more resources and help as many women as we can."

David grins at her.  Kate's stomach does flip-flops of victory.  She's buzzing with happiness and she can't wait until this article gets published.

"Alright, Kate - thank you so much," David says.  "I think I've got enough to make a really good article, and I'm so impressed by what you're doing."

She feels a blush crawl up her neck, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.  "Thank you."

"Now that the formalities are over, I want to ask before I go - how are things going, Kate?  I haven't seen your fiancé since our last meetup, and I haven't had much to time to chat with him since.  I hope your family's doing alright."

Kate blinks.  She was lost the moment David said "fiancé," and she can't catch herself up to speed.

"Wait, what?"

David looks momentarily confused as well, but then his eyes widen and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

"David?" Kate prods.  "What were you just talking about?"

He shakes his head.  "I'm not - I can't say - I'm not supposed to - "

Kate glares at him.  "You're talking about Tommy.  I have the right to know.  Tell me, or I will find out from him and be back for you."

David heaves a deep breath, looking uneasy.  "He's been secretly confiding in me about his mother's campaign."

Kate blinks.  "Why?"

"Initially, he hoped to sabotage her, but now - I don't know.  He changed his mind."

Something she's never felt towards Tommy burns in her chest.  She stands up slowly, and her teeth are slightly clenched when she says, "Thank you, David.  This interview means a lot to me.  I'll be in touch."

"Kate?"

She ignores him and lets her feet take her all the way back to her car.  Her and Tommy have got a lot to talk about.

_

12.

David curses himself thoroughly after the interview.  Disgruntled and full of self-pity, he drags himself back to the office.  He throws his notes down on his desk and collapses into his chair.  Minutes pass of him with his face in his hand before he looks up and eyes Loki's empty desk.  Heart wrenching, he pulls out his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Loki," David says.  "Do you want to meet for lunch somewhere?"

"Sure," Loki says after a moment.  "Where?"

"Our old place."

"See you there at one?"

"One," David agrees.

He passes the time by meditating (laying down and closing his eyes without sleeping) in his office.  At twelve-fifty-five, he strolls into the cafe and grabs a table.  Loki shows up right on the dot, showered and freshly shaven.  His hair is still in a messy bun, and he's dressed in dirty jeans and a ragged t-shirt, but David welcomes the improvement in his appearance.

"Hey," Loki says, sliding into the booth.  A smile hides behind his lips.

"How has your day been?" David asks, taking a sip of the water the server brought him.

Loki shrugs.  "All that's really happened is Thor called me and told me he's surprising me with a visit, so that's - " He raises his eyebrows.  "That sucks."

David nods, trying to keep his reaction neutral.  A moment of silence passes, and he clears his throat.

"Um, Loke?"

He looks up again.  "Yes?"

"I've been doing some thinking - "

"Oh, no," Loki murmurs.  "No, no - we agreed, David.  Our relationship is too unhealthy."

David blushes immediately and starts spluttering, "No, no - that's not what I meant.  Oh my god, no - I just."  He takes a breath.  "I was thinking that maybe it's time for you to come back.  To work."

Loki stares at him blankly.  "I was fired."

"I know, but I'm the editor," David shrugs.  "I can pull some strings."

Loki closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.  "Wait - wait.  Why would you want me to come back?  Was there a plague I didn't know about?"

"Come on, Loki," David says with a small grin.  "You're a good journalist, and you've shown me that you're trying to improve yourself.  I'd say you're pretty stable again, and I think maybe it's time.  Put yourself back in the world.  Come do what you love."

Loki snorts.  "What I love is drinking, but it's not good for me, so I can't.  Sorry."

David rolls his eyes.  "Loke, I'm serious.  Come back to the paper."

The facade fades from Loki's expression.  He bites his lip and heaves a breath.  "I don't know, David."

"I want you back," David says, quiet.  "It's not the same without you."

Loki nods.  "Yeah, I'm sure the paper's just floundering."

"Enough with self-deprecation," David sighs.  "Come back."

Loki presses his lips together, traces rings on the table with his finger.  "Do I get my old office back?"

"You can have anything you want.  Just come back," David practically begs.

Loki sits back in his seat and exhales.  "Okay."

"Really?"

Loki nods, somber but definitely not joking.  "I need a distraction from Thor, and I desperately need him to believe I'm okay.  It's kind of questionable if I don't have a significant other or a job."

David smiles.  "I'll write you down for a return on Monday."

_

13.

Billy's already in tatters when he picks Teddy up.  His nerves are frazzled, and he just wants the night to be over.  Teddy, of course, is all smiles, looking sharp in a suit and a loose button down.  Billy practically jumps him the second he's in the car, and Teddy has to push him off.

"I'm sorry," Billy mutters.  "I'm a wreck."

Teddy just rolls his eyes.  "It's going to be fine, Billy."  He takes Billy's hand.  "I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," Billy chides, and they're on the road to disaster.

Everyone is conveniently waiting for them when they arrive.  Teddy steps into the dining room to a round of applause, and Billy has to use everything not to facepalm and turn away.  He grimaces his way through a smile and introduces Teddy to everyone.

"So, what's for dinner, Madame?" Teddy asks.

"Oh, please," Wanda says with a blush.  "Just call me Ms. Maximoff."

Billy gags.  Teddy slaps him.

"We're having a roast, buttered potatoes, and garden salad," Pietro replies.  "All courtesy of me."

"I didn't know you could cook," Tommy pipes in from his seat at the table next to Kate.

"Oh, god," Billy mutters.

"Hush," Wanda says.  "And take a seat.  Pietro will serve us in just a minute."

Hand in Teddy's, Billy lets himself be led to the table.  Teddy pulls out a chair for him, and Billy accepts it with thanks.  Teddy scoots into the seat next to him, still smiling as brightly as ever.  Sometimes Billy has a really hard time imagining Teddy ever being an alcoholic.

"So, Teddy," Wanda begins.  "You and Billy met at your group?"

"Yes, we did," Teddy confirms.  "Sam assigned us as sober partners a few months ago, and that's how we started bonding."

"Are you from D.C.?" Kate asks.  "I'm only wondering because you sound like you have a vaguely New Yorker accent.  I grew up in New York," she offers.

"Yeah - I'm from Manhattan, actually," Teddy replies.  "I moved here to go to college.  I was really interested in politics, but uh, things kind of fell apart when my mom died.  That's when I started drinking."

Billy squeezes his hand under the table.  He told Teddy didn't have to give details he didn't want to, and Billy knows Teddy's only doing this to keep himself on Billy's level.  To show some kind of connection between them because Teddy's been recovered for years now, and Billy's still struggling.  Teddy wants Billy's family to believe in Billy as much as he does.

"You're sober now?" Tommy asks, and Billy appreciates that there's no judgment in his voice, just general curiosity.

"Yeah," Teddy says with a smile.  "I've been sober for three years."

Wanda opens her mouth to say something, but Teddy is saved further interrogation with Pietro's arrival with the food.  Slowly, he sets the table with the steaming platters of meat and potatoes, as well as bowls of salad.

"Dig in, everyone."

While they eat, the conversation is stunted.  Mostly, Teddy is just asked more about his life, which he graciously answers.  Surprisingly, Erik says nothing embarrassing (especially given the other day), and for that Billy is entirely grateful.

After dinner, everyone gathers around in the living room for dessert and for the non-alcoholics, alcohol.  Teddy and Billy share sparkling cider, and sit close to one another.

"Hey, Teddy," Wanda says.  "I could use your help."

Billy looks over at her apprehensively.  "With what?"

"Convincing you to move back in here during the campaign."

Billy rolls his eyes.  "Mom, that's like four years.  I don't want to live here when I'm thirty."

"Then you better sober up, kid.  You're worrying me too much."

An uncomfortable blush runs up Billy's neck and he scratches at his scalp.  "Mom, can we not talk about this now?"

"Why?" Wanda asks.  "Teddy's your sober partner.  Doesn't he know about the relapse?"

"Yes, Mom," Billy snaps.  "So does everyone at AA.  I'm actually working on it, whether you believe me or not."  His breathing heightens, and Teddy lays a subtle hand on Billy's lower back.

"It's okay, B," he whispers.

"Billy, look," Wanda says, "I'm not trying to embarrass you - "

"Well, you're doing one hell of a job," Billy retorts with a scoff.

Wanda bristles.  "I'm concerned, Billy."

"And I'm fine," Billy replies.  "I don't know why you can't trust me.  I'm working my ass off trying to beat this, and what - you think shaming me in front of my boyfriend is going to help me?"

"Billy," Wanda says warningly.  She stands up, and Billy doesn't realize he is too until she meets his eye level.

"You're unbelievable," Billy spits.

"William - "

"Uh - with all due respect, Ms. Maximoff."  Teddy joins them on foot, and Billy resists the urge to throw him back on the couch, "Billy's been doing really well.  He calls me every time he gets an urge.  He hasn't had anything to drink in a week, and - and he went back to that Doctor for his powers, and he's found such peace - "

"No, Teddy - "

The tension in the room increases tenfold as Wanda rounds on her son, mouth and eyes open wide.  "Doctor?" she asks.

"Doctor Kaplan," Billy tries.

"No, no - for your powers, Billy.  I heard that.  You're back with Strange?  Are you serious?" Wanda's yelling now, red in the face and advancing on him.  "Have you lost your mind?"

Billy shakes his head and scoffs.  "You know, you always manage to abandon me when I need you the most."

"Me?" Wanda asks disbelievingly.  "William Maximoff, don't you dare.  Strange was the one who made promises he couldn't keep.  He was the one who experimented on you, who pushed you too far and blamed it on you when it all went wrong.  I - "  She swallows hard.  "I was the one who found you - barely alive."

Billy shakes his head again, biting hard on his cheek.  He looks his mother straight in the eye.  "I hope you're not expecting me to thank you for that.  Because I never will."

Without another word, he grabs his jacket off the couch and exits the room, not even caring that he's leaving Teddy stranded behind him. He's too angry for words, and the thoughts brewing in his mind can't be calmed.

_

14.

Loki could have imagined worse.  They meet in a restaurant of Thor's choosing, something southwestern with dishes that have far too much meat, and Loki can only take a few bites before he's full.  Thor talks about his life first, telling Loki all about med school and his college friends who absolutely hate Loki, not that either of them acknowledge it.  It gives Loki some time to think of the answers to the questions he knows Thor will ask.

"So - you and David?" he begins.  "What went wrong?'

Loki shrugs.  "Working together wasn't good for the relationship, I guess.  We got into a disagreement about journalistic integrity.  It's much more important to David than it was to me."

Thor smirks and shakes his head.  "Oh, Loki."

He sniffs.  "So now, I'm living with Verity and it's not too bad.  We get along surprisingly well as roommates."

"Do you see anything in the future with her?" Thor asks with a raised eyebrow.

Loki blushes.  "No.  No, I do not."

Thor waits until after the appetizer to bring up the hard stuff, but Loki still isn't ready for it.

"How have your meetings been going?  Are you still in the same group?"

Loki stiffens.  Stirring his soda, he frowns.  "Yes.  Yes, I'm still in the same group.  Sam Wilson's group."

"I heard about Billy Maximoff," Thor coughs, and Loki's heart drops.  His palms immediately grow sweaty and he has to swallow a few times before he can talk.  "He's in that group, right?"

"Y - yes," Loki stammers.  "Yes, he's - he's talked to us a lot about what - what happened."

"Do you know him well?"

Loki winces.  No.  No he doesn't, though he would very much like to.  He doesn't necessarily like to think about that, however, because not only is he pining after someone he barely knows, but he also ruined that person's life in a fit of drunken rage.

It's all very complicated and Loki doesn't feel like getting into that right now with anyone, let alone his brother.

"No," is all he says, and Thor sighs.

Loki knows he's making this difficult, but he doesn't really care.

A dip in the conversation follows until dessert, and that's when Thor pretty much fucks everything up.  Loki isn't surprised when he hears it, but he still hadn't really seen it coming.  It all just seemed like a horrible coincidence in the neverending unfortunate events of his life.

"Loki," he begins quietly, "I'm not supposed to let you know this, but your friends are very worried about you."

Loki freezes, then lets out a string of curse words under his breath.  "They called you," he says, and it isn't a question.

"Don't be upset with them - "

He puts his face in his hands and shakes his head.  "Goddamnit.  God damn them."

"Loki, they're concerned - "

"Well, if they were really concerned they'd listen to me when I say I don't want my overbearing brother dragging me out of rock bottom once again!"

He throws fork down on the table and twitches when it clatters.

The conversation ends there, and the only other words Thor says that don't get steamrolled over by Loki's fury are, "Goodbye, brother."

Loki slams the car door behind him and looks up at the dark windows of Verity's home.  He takes the steps slowly, and once Thor's car disappears around the corner, he turns around.  He knows it's a bad idea.  It's a fucking terrible idea, but he doesn't care.  His so-called friends deserve whatever shit he's going to put him through for betraying his wishes like this.

The bar is crowded when Loki arrives, and the only spot left is squeezed into the middle of the actual bar itself.  He shoves himself into the seat and bumps elbows with someone while he orders a scotch on the rocks.

"L - Loki?"

He looks to the person he bumped into and finds that it's none other than Billy Maximoff, absolutely and completely smashed.

"Billy," he blurts out.  "Shit."

Billy giggles.  "You're not happy to see me?"

Loki laughs awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of normality even though he can feel worry rising in his veins and guilt crushing his stomach.  "Ironic, isn't?  Neither of us are supposed to be here, and out of everyone, we run into each other."

Billy snickers so hard he almost knocks over his current glass of alcohol.  Out of instinct, Loki holds his arm just in case Billy almost falls himself.

"Billy, what are you doing here?"

He takes a sip of his drink and then belches.  "Givin' up."

Loki's chest tightens.  "What happened, Billy?"

He shrugs.  "I was wrong - about - eve'ything."

A sense of panic Loki's never particular felt before starts to run up his spine.  His hand moves to Billy's upper arm and rests there.  He has no idea what's going on in Billy's mind right, but he knows that it's bad.  Really, really bad.

"Talk to me, Billy," he urges.  "Tell me what's going on."

Billy splutters a laugh, but tears swell in his eyes.  "I thought I was - okay.  I thought I could - but I was wrong.  Jus' - jus' because I found a guy to go on more than one date with me, and - and didn't explode an'ther building, that I was . . . better.  No."  He laughs painfully again.  "No, I'm not.  And I - won't ever be."

Loki struggles to breathe, struggles to get through any particular thought.  Every word that comes out of his mouth is pure instinct while panic fills the spaces between his capillaries.

"Don't - don't say that, Billy.  Hell, look at me.  I've relapsed pretty badly, and I - I'm getting better.  It's not obvious, but I am."

"I'm not you," Billy replies, and the look in his eyes is utterly heartbroken.

"Billy - " Loki begs.

"Don't - " he gives himself a shake.  "Don't worry about me, Loki.  I'm - I'm gonna be - okay.  More than okay.  I've had my eyes open'd.  I know what to do."

He hobbles down from the stool and digs in his pocket for a crumpled up wad of cash.  He stows it on the counter, claps Loki on the shoulder, and begins to stumble away, all while Loki repeats his name and grabs onto every part of him he can reach.  Billy shoves him off with little force and keeps moving.  Loki battles himself for a fraction of a second, and then jumps from his own spot.  He tries to weave his way through the crowd, but it's nearly impossible.  For someone entirely inebriated, Billy sure is moving fast.  Loki's still sober and he's tripping over his feet.

"Billy!  Billy - wait up!"

The swoosh of his hair moves, but Billy doesn't stop.

"Billy, please!  Billy!"

Loki makes it out the door without falling flat on his face, but Billy's nowhere in sight.  His breath is coming short now, and the world is tipping precariously.  Loki recognizes it as a panic attack.  Spots dance around his vision as he pushes his way back inside, back through the crowd, back to the back of the bar where the bathrooms are.  His intent is to vomit, but he's stopped by a payphone.

He doesn't even know how he gets the idea, but it's formed in his mind by the time he pulls out his cell and dials David.

"Hello?"

"David?" Loki asks.

"Loki, where the hell are you?  We're all worried sick!"

"It doesn't matter," Loki huffs.  "I need Wanda Maximoff's number."

David makes a baffled sound.  "What?  Loki, what are you talking about?"

"Just give me the number and I'll tell you where I am.  I need a ride anyway.  I can't - I can't walk."

"Loki - "

"Give me the number, David."                    

"Okay, okay.  Do you have a pen?"

Loki grabs one attached to the flyer-covered billboard beside the payphones.  "Yes."  David tells him slowly, and he writes it down on an advertisement for a back-waxing service.  "Okay.  Thank you, thank you.  I'm at Rooster's.  I'm going to hang up now.  I'll see you soon."

He hangs up and stows his cell back in his pocket before picking up the payphone and dialing Wanda Maximoff's number.  Nobody answers the first time, or the second, but on the third, Loki's panic attack is halted.

"Hello?"

"Is this Wanda Maximoff?" Loki asks.  It's not.  It's a man's voice, but he needs to know if he has the right number.  He'll tell whoever it is as long as they can help Billy.

"How did you get this number?"

"Pietro, then?" Loki asks.

"Who is this?"   The dark tone of his voice gives it away.

"Alright, Pietro, listen.  It doesn't matter who I am.  All that matters is I just had a chat with your nephew at Rooster's Tavern, and I have very strong reason to believe that he intends to kill himself tonight or in the very near future.  I don't know where he's gone now.  I tried to follow him, but he left so fast.  Just, please.  He's in danger."

He hangs up then and collapses against the payphone, sobbing until David arrives.  Once David is there, he lets himself be shifted into David's arms, still crying softly, and walked out to the car.  Thor drove apparently, so Loki follows David into the backseat.  He can't calm down, and David just holds him.

_

15.

**six months prior //**

He's grounded for life according to his mother, and honestly he doesn't care.  He doesn't want to leave his bed anyway.  He's been here for days, only leaving to use the bathroom and eat when his mom forces him to.  Otherwise, it's pointless.

His family is pissed at him, as they have every right to be.  They tried to tell him, they really did.  They knew it was a bad idea, but Billy was so hellbent on proving everyone wrong that he couldn't see the danger.  Now people are dying in the hospital because of him.  It's Christmas Eve, and maybe his family's abandoned him, but other families are gathered around hospital beds, and it's his fault.

A fresh round of tears pricks Billy's eyes and he rolls out of bed with a sigh.  The only good thing about his family ditching him is that he has the house to himself, and he can wander around aimlessly without bumping into any of them.  And that's just what he does.  He paces through the halls and rubs his face and pulls at his hair, all while intermittently sobbing.

He ends up in the kitchen, in front of the liquor cabinet to be exact.  He's been sober for three months, but now seems like as good as any occasion to start up again.  Billy opens up the doors and browses the selections.  He settles on whiskey and grabs the bottle.  After dropping it on the counter, he takes a step to the left and opens the cabinet that contains their glasses.  Hand on the doorknobs, he freezes.

He shouldn't be doing this.

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but everything hurts so much, and if Billy's going to get through the day, he can't be sober.  A large sob escapes his throat, and he chokes.

He can't do this.  He can't do anything.  He just wants it all to stop.  He wants it all to end.

Billy drops his hands from the cabinet and collapses half of his weight to the counter.  His head falls forward, and his eyes rest on the knife rack.  His breath hitches, and he feels oddly calm.  A horrible, horrible idea is working its way through his mind.

It's not like he's never thought about it.  There's a reason he's an alcoholic.  He's just never really felt strong enough to do it.  Never wanted it bad enough to go through with it.  He's always chickened out or made sure someone could still stop him.

That's not the case now.

He wants to be dead more than anything, and he has the means.  Heaving a deep breath, Billy rips the carving knife from the rack.  Fist clenched around the handle, he wipes the tears from his eyes and begins stalking to the bathroom.

Once inside, he locks it with shaking fingers and slides to the floor.  This is usually when he falls apart, but he's as calm as he's ever been.  Time seems to slow as Billy licks his lips and presses the tip of the knife to the inside of his wrist.  He pushes it hard, harder, harder, until the skin splits, and then, without hesitation, he pulls the knife down his arm, keeping it pressed firmly in his flesh.

The blood comes quick, and by the time the knife clatters to the floor, he's already woozy.  He leans his head against the wall behind him, and closes his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to no one.

 

The house is too quiet when Wanda and Erik arrive home.  Wanda's inside first, and she looks around with an odd feeling settling in her stomach.  The living room is empty, and Wanda frowns.  She knows Billy's been down since the accident, but she figured he would at least get out of bed some time, especially if they gave him space.

She heads into the kitchen, and almost instantly spots the whiskey.

"Billy?" she calls.

No answer.

With a heavy sigh, she drops her bag on the counter and walks down the hallway.

"Bill - "

And her heart stops.  She never does notice when it starts back up again, but it feels like she's dying when her eyes catch sight of the dark stain of blood on the carpet outside the bathroom door.

"Billy, Billy, Billy - no."

She races to the door and busts it open.  The door was clearly locked  because the deadbolt snaps and pieces of wood fall to the floor.  Red is all she can see.  There's so much of it, so much blood.  Like an ocean, pooled on the floor all around her son.  She falls into it, shaking hands gripping Billy's face.  He's still warm, and Wanda's heart leaps.  She presses an ear to his mouth and finds that he's still breathing.  Her fingers slip and fumble as she grips his bloodied neck and feels for a pulse.  She finds one, and then she's screaming.

"Dad!  Dad, call an ambulance!  Please, oh my god - Billy - Dad, call an ambulance, Billy's - Billy's - "  Her sobs choke her, pull the all air from her lungs.  "Dad," she sobs.  "Dad, Billy's - he's - "

Erik is ghostly white when he finds them, phone in his ear.

"Please, right away - yes, that's Pennsylvania Avenue.  My grandson's tried to kill himself."

_

16.

Wanda doesn't usually bother Steve this late, especially with stuff that isn't political.  She only goes to him because she knows that he'll still be in his office, working away.  It's that time in the bill's period where he can't sleep, and she knows she won't be sleeping tonight, so what the hell?

She knocks on the door, but doesn't wait for an answer.  She walks right in, and Steve looks up in surprise.  He glances once at her red eyes and stands up to cross the room.  He meets her halfway, and pulls her into his arms.

"Wanda, what's wrong?"

"Billy," she croaks.

Steve pulls back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.  "Is he okay?"

She shakes her head.  "I don't know, Steve.  And I don't know what to do.  He won't listen to me, and I'm - I'm so scared."  She didn't intend to cry, but the sobs start to come again, and she can't stop them.

Steve hugs her, and carefully, helps her over to the couch where she sits down and buries her face in his chest.  She's going to get makeup all over his shirt, and she feels really bad about it, but she can't make herself move.  Steve's holding her too tight, and she doesn't really want to move anyway.

"Have you called him?"

"I did at home, I - "she feels her pockets.  "My phone - I left it there."

"Hey, hey," Steve says softly, pulling out his cell.  "You can use mine."

She sits up and takes it graciously.  Her fingers tremble slightly as she unlocks it, and she has a little trouble hitting the right numbers, so Steve takes it and dials for her.  It rings, and both of them wait, but just like before, it goes to voicemail.  Wanda sighs and waits for the beep.

"Billy?" she says.  "Billy, please.  Please, when you get this - call me back.  Everyone is so, so worried."  She hiccups, and another sob breaks through.  "I love you so much, Bills.  I love you more than life itself, and I need you, son.  Please.   _Please._  Call me back."

She clicks the phone off, and slowly, steadily, begins to crumple in on herself.  Her breath completely stops in her lungs, building up for the big sobs, the ones that will render her nearly paralyzed with sadness and defeat.

"Wanda?"

She feels Steve's arms on her shoulders again, but she can't move.

"Wanda, come here."

He pries the phone from her grip and sets it on the coffee table beside them.  As gently as he can manage, Steve pulls her closer.  She doesn't register what he's doing until she feels his lips on her forehead, pressing a soft kiss to her skin.

The sobs stutter, and she looks up through her tear-mottled vision.  She doesn't really know what happens or why it does, but it does.  She's utterly and completely wracked with emotion.  All the panic and fear and guilt and despair built up inside her twist up her mind, and then she's leaning up and she's pressing her lips to Steve's mouth and they're kissing.

It's not passionate, it's not rough, it's not sexy.  It's just them, just Wanda vulnerable and in pieces, looking for comfort in a way she's never known she's needed.  And then it's over.  Just like that.  They both pull away, and the world still spins on around them and Billy still hasn't answered or called his mother back.

Wand exhales a shaky breath, and Steve hugs her again.

"It's going to be okay, Wanda," he promises.

_

17.

"You're mad at me," Tommy says, and then hates himself for being stupid.  Of course Kate is mad at him.  She's sitting on the opposite side of the room, turned away from him and silent.  She didn't say a single word the whole ride home, just stared out the window with her arms crossed.

"Kate," Tommy urges.  "We can't fix this if I don't know what's wrong."

She sighs heavily, but doesn't look at him.  "You've been avoiding me."

"So this is payback?" Tommy asks incredulously.

Kate rolls her eyes as she turns to face him.  "No, moron.  I just - couldn't figure out how to put words to what I'm feeling."

Tommy blinks.  "Okay?"

"Tommy, I'm really disappointed in you," Kate says.  Her voice reflects it so severely that he feels like he's been punched in the stomach.  "I know that you've been meeting with David.  I know what you planned to do to your mom's campaign."

His heart sinks, and his eyes flutter shut with overwhelm.  "Kate - "

"Don't bother explaining yourself," she sighs.  "I'm not done.  You didn't - tonight you didn't do a single thing when your mother was chewing out Billy.  Maybe it's not your place to get involved, but you've just - you've become so distant, Tommy.  I feel like you don't even care what's going on around you anymore."

"Kate," Tommy says warningly.  "Kate, listen - "

"No," she says, raising her voice.  "I'm - I'm going to be your wife, Tommy.  The least you can do is clue me in.  I know you're pretty terrible at talking about your feelings, but I thought we worked past this years ago."

"Kate, look - I'm sorry," Tommy says.  He stands up, and holds his arms open.

"No," she says flatly.  "Tommy, you don't get it.  I don't - "  She swallows hard.  "I don't feel confident in our engagement if you're so comfortable lying to me about such big things."

"I didn't lie to you," Tommy  scoffs.

Kate bristles.  "You certainly kept certain truths from me, Thomas."

He rolls his eyes.  "God, please - don't act like you're my mom."

"I'm not acting like your mother," Kate says darkly, and she too, stands up.  "I'm acting like your soon to be wife, and if you thinking pushing me away is going to solve any problems you have, then we can quickly change that status."

Tommy sighs heavily and rubs his face with his hands.  He swings his legs around, rotating on the spot, and runs a hand through his hair.

"Kate, you're overreacting.  Is this really just about David?"

She throws her hands in the air.  "No.  For shit's sake, Tommy.   If you've been listening to me at all you'd know this really isn't about David.  Forget it - I'm going to bed."

"Kate," Tommy chides.

"I'm going to bed," she repeats, and stalks past him.  "Goodnight."

_

18.

Billy doesn't really know how he gets home, but somehow he's walking through his door in one piece.  He's incredibly dizzy and though there's the usual giddiness that comes with him being drunk, the underlying sadness has him gripped so tightly he doesn't feel like he can breathe properly.  He's been crying since he left his mom's house, and he hasn't really stopped.  It's not like he's sobbing, he just feels the tears there, spilling every so often.  His heart is swollen, pressing against the inside of his ribs, beats broken.

His apartment is quiet.  It's almost unnatural.  Billy entertains the thought of grabbing the vodka from his freezer, but he's so tired that he ends up collapsing to the couch instead.  He's got a perfectly good stash of pills in his room, and he knows there's more than enough to kill him.  He curls on his side, and then feels his phone vibrate.  Groaning, he sits back up and pulls his phone from his pocket.  He supposes it won't hurt to try and talk himself out of this with someone.

"Hello?"

"Billy?"

"Teddy," he says with a wince.  "Hey, look - I'm sorry."

"Are you drunk?" Teddy asks.

"Yeah, but listen - "

"Fuck."

Billy starts.  "Whoa, Teddy - hey, now.  Hey, hey, hey - "

"Billy, knock it off."

The anger in Teddy's voice makes Billy's heart drop.  He grips his phone a little tighter and takes a deep breath.

"I've been calling you for hours," Teddy continues.  "I've been worried sick.  I  - I went to your apartment - where the hell are you, by the way?  Why couldn't you tell me?  I'm your goddamn sober partner.  I'm not your mom, or your uncle.  I'm not here to judge."

Billy swallows.  "You seem pretty judgmental right now."

Teddy scoffs.  "I'm just upset.  Angry, even.  Maybe a little furious.  Because I love you, and you know that, and I'm sitting here by myself, so fucking scared because I have no idea where you are or what you're doing, and then you answer, and you're wasted - "

"There you go," Billy says, voice strained.  His heart feels fit to burst with the sadness settling in his chest.  "I'm home, Teddy.  I'm fine.  I just - "

"You thought it would be perfectly okay if you went out and drank and didn't tell anyone where you were going or what you were doing.  You just left in a fit of anger, off to hurt yourself in the worst way possible, and none of us even have a clue - ?"

"Teddy, stop," Billy whines.  He's starting to get overwhelmed.  Teddy's voice just keeps growing louder.  He doesn't know that Teddy's raising his voice at all, but the way it sounds in Billy's ears is starting to drive him crazy.

"You don't get it, Billy.  You don't understand what's been going through my mind while you've been off doing this to yourself."

Billy's lips tremble, and a bile rises in his throat.  "Teddy, please," he whispers.  "You're not helping. I - I'm - "

"I _could have_ helped you," Teddy snaps.

Billy can't take it.  He hangs up on Teddy, and it's for the best because he's halfway through a panic attack.  Every limb is shaking, and he can't breathe, and the voices, the voices he kept quiet for so long are rushing back too fast for Billy to fight it.  He curls in on himself and chokes on his lungs.  His hands are shaking something violent, but he dials Tommy's number despite that.

It rings, and rings, and rings -

"Oh, fuck - Tommy, please.  Pick up.  Pick up, Tommy."

And rings, and rings, and - goes to voicemail.

Billy lets out a whimper and tries again.  It goes to voicemail.  He tries again.  Voicemail.  Again.  Voicemail.  Again. V -

He sobs.

"Oh, god.  Oh, god. Oh, god."

He hasn't had an episode like this in six months.  It's gotten pretty bad, but Billy's never let himself get this low.  That was where the drinking and the drugs came in.  If he was drunk or high, he couldn't feel it.  He couldn't sink deep enough.  His mind was too preoccupied with whatever he was on, and he could ignore it. But now he's smashed, and he feels it worse than ever before, and it's so overwhelming.

He paces around his living room for a little while, and then that's it.

Slightly out of it, and barely able to breathe, Billy stumbles into his room.  The crying makes it hard, but Billy's determined.  He starts with the anti-psychotics.  Pours handful after handful and throws them back.  Then he moves to the narcotics.  Then the smaller things - the sleeping pills, the painkillers, and lastly, anti-nausea.

When he's finished, Billy lies down in bed.  His phone is warm in his pocket, and he thinks about trying to call Tommy again - to say goodbye, but the room is spinning too fast, and his vision is starting to go out.  The seizure hits, and then all consciousness is gone.

_

19.

The fact that someone Pietro doesn't know has his sister's private number is much less frightening than what he had to say, and that's why Pietro wastes no time in calling the police.  He sends them to Billy's apartment first because it's late, and Pietro really has no other place to start.  Once that call ends, he gets in his car and speeds over as fast as he can.

The police are on his heels when he busts open the door.  They crowd around him, and begin searching around the front of apartment, but Pietro bullets to the back, to Billy's bedroom.  His gut leads him, and it doesn't fail him either.

Billy's on his side on the floor, covered in vomit, and Pietro doesn't know if he's breathing.

"In here!" he yells, and falls to his knees beside his nephew.  "He's in here!"  He leans over Billy, cradling his head in his hands and gasping for breath.  "God, Billy - _why?_ "

 


	5. Episode 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably the hardest for me, and the one that was the worst for my triggers, so again, be careful and take care of yourself.
> 
> Warnings include: self-blame (3, 8, 12, 13, 16), evidence of overdose (1, 7, 12, 16, 17, 19), evidence of self-harm (8, 18), alcohol consumption (11, 15), drug use (14), talk of past sexual assault (18)

1.

No one talks when they're first allowed in.  Pietro's been here for hours, waiting by himself until everyone followed.  Wanda came first, absolutely frantic.  Steve dropped her off and stayed for an hour until she was calm and then left.  Tommy and Kate showed up later, having not checked their phones until somewhere after one in the morning.  Erik shows up last, after both Wanda and Pietro call him several times.  He's still in shock when he walks through the doors, but he tries to comfort his children anyway.

No one else is in the waiting room.  A nurse comes and goes behind the desk, but no emergencies occur.  It's probably a good thing considering the Maximoffs fill up nearly all of the seats in the cramped waiting room.  The silence is the worst part.  The silence and the white decor and the complete inactivity around them.

A nurse fetches them around eight in the morning, tells them that it’s a miracle Billy made it through the night, but he's more or less stable now.  He's sedated while his organs recover from the strain, and he's probably going to remain sedated for at least twenty-four hours until his body's strong enough again.

Pietro leads them in, and his eyes burn as he looks at his nephew lying in that bed, oxygen hooked up to his nose and wires all over his chest and the inside of his arms.  He's paler than Pietro's ever seen him, and the green and white hospital gown does nothing to improve that.

Wanda starts crying all over again, and Pietro wraps an arm around her and pulls her in.

"What do we do?" Tommy whispers.

"He's moving in with us, that's for sure," Wanda sniffles.  "And even if he doesn't want to, he's going to a psych hospital.  He - he needs the treatment."

"He'll go," Kate says quietly.  She's still crying.  She hasn't stopped.  "He wanted to go last time.  It won't be a problem."

Tommy's phone goes off and Pietro turns to shoot him a glare, but he's stopped by the stricken look on Tommy's face.

"Mom - the press," he stutters.  "There were witnesses.  The police, the paramedics, Billy's neighbors - "

A collective sigh runs through the group.  Pietro has no idea how they're going to get out of this one, but it seems his sister does.

"Tommy, call David Alleyne."

Tommy starts.  "Mom, are you sure - ?"

"Just call him," Wanda urges, and Tommy dials as he heads out of the room.  She pries herself loose from Pietro's arms and turns to their father.  "Get Billy's room ready at the house.  I'll clean out his apartment so he can move straight in with us when he's released."

Kate steps over and faces Wanda.  "We'll make it feel like home, Ms. Maximoff."

Wanda places a hand on Kate's shoulder and gives it a squeeze.  Sometimes Pietro forgets too.  Kate is just as close with Billy as she is with Thomas.  There's no way she isn't taking this as harshly as everyone else.

"Thank you, Kate."

Kate nods, and takes Erik by the upper arm.  The two of them follow Tommy out, leaving only Wanda and Pietro left to discuss.

"I'll stay here," Wanda says immediately, but Pietro shakes his head.

"Get some sleep, Wanda.  The panel for the rescue is meeting tomorrow, and they need you there.  This rescue is your brainchild.  Billy's not going to be up for twenty-four hours.  I can stay."

"Pietro, no," Wanda says firmly.  "No, no - you've - you've had a rough night.  I can take it from here."

Pietro shakes his head again and cradles Wanda by her forearms.  "Wanda, I'm okay.  I've already called both Crystal and Lorna for support.  Crystal can't make it but Lorna's bringing Luna tomorrow morning."

Wanda winces.  "Billy's going to feel so guilty."

Pietro shrugs it off.  "Lorna would have killed me if I hadn't told her right away.  She threatened to rip my head off for waiting last time.  Billy's family cares about him.  He has no reason to feel guilty."

Wanda hangs her head in defeat, and Pietro takes the opportunity to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.  "Seriously, Wanda.  Go get some rest.  I can handle it here."

She sighs, but gives in.  "Keep me updated."

"I will," Pietro promises.  "Of course I will."

Wanda gives one more look to her son, still sleeping peacefully, and then heads out the door, lip trembling and eyes filling with tears once more.

_

2.

"Alright, listen to me," Wanda begins.  Her, Tommy, and David are seated around her office.  David hasn't been brought up to speed on actual events, but they're giving a story nonetheless.  "Billy was on antibiotics for a throat infection.  Last night, he had an allergic reaction to them, and was promptly rushed to the hospital, where he was treated.  He's now recovering and will be recovering for the next few days as his body comes down from the reaction."

David doesn't write a single word down.  He drops his hands to his lap and narrows his eyes.  "Are the medical documents available?"

"They're sealed," Tommy replies shortly.

David sighs.  "Madam Secretary, do you really expect me to believe this?"

"It's not what you I want you to believe," Wanda replies.  "It's what I want you to write."

David rubs at his temple and closes his eyes.  "Listen - I know what happened, and I know that it's important for you to keep this under wraps, but professionally, I can't help.  I can't print this bogus story, because I can't compromise the name of the paper.  All I can promise is to not let anyone print anything about Billy.  If there was anything else I could do, I would do it, but as a journalist, it's my job to tell the truth."

Wanda bites her lip.  She too, knows what pressure David's under.  Her job requires her to only tell certain amounts of truth, but she's always been one to go overboard.  She's never been a fan of lying to protect her image as a politician, or America as a government.

"David," Wanda says quietly.  "I want you to know that as Secretary of State, I would never do something to deceive the American public, but as a mother, I would do anything to protect my son."

"Madam, I still can't print - "

"David," Wanda says again, louder, more firm, "would you print this if I could promise you another story."

David purses his lips.  "What kind of story?"

Wanda looks right in his eyes.  "There's a sinking submarine off the coast of San Diego, and it's filled with Russian military."

_

3.

Loki hasn't moved all night, or slept.  David took him back to his apartment instead of Verity's, mostly for selfish reasons, but also because his place was closer and Loki was panicking.  He made it no further than the couch and promptly collapsed, and hasn't moved ever since except when David coerced him to use the bathroom.

David returns home from his meeting with Wanda Maximoff to find him curled up in a ball.  Thor sits on the opposite end, completely unsure what to do.  David gives him a look that says, "I'll take it from here," and approaches Loki cautiously.

"Loke?"

David sits down beside him.

"How are you doing?"

He lays a gentle hand on Loki's knee and Loki looks at him with watery eyes, but doesn't say a word.

"I was just with Wanda and Thomas Maximoff, you know.  Billy's okay.  He's in the hospital.  They pumped his stomach last night, and he's going to be okay."

Loki looks away, refusing to acknowledge that he heard anything.  David, desperate and unsure, looks back at Thor.  Thor has nothing for him.

"Loki," David prods, turning back to him.  "Loki, talk to me."

Almost instantly, Loki's eyes fill with tears.  "It's my fault," he whispers.  "It's all my fault."

David feels a surge of panic and devastation run through his veins.  The hand on Loki's knee tightens, and he leans in closer.  "Loki, what are you talking about?"

"Billy tried to kill himself," Loki whispers, eyes wide and face gaunt, "and it's my fault."

"No," David says firmly.  "No, no - Loki, don't you dare - "

"I printed that article," Loki protests, no longer whispering.  "I ruined his life.  He fell back into a depression because of me.  I know.  He - he told us everything at AA, and - and then he tried to kill himself again.  It's my fault, David.  It's my fault."

"No," David says again, and he's not so gentle.  He moves forward and takes Loki by the shoulders.  "Listen to me, Loki.  This is not your fault.  Billy Maximoff has a hundred other things going on in his life, first of all.  And second, the way he chooses to react to those things has nothing to do with you.  He made that decision, Loki, all on his own.  Anything you did or didn't do doesn't have any bearing on that.  Okay?"

Loki closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

"Loki," Thor speaks up now.  "Be honest - do you blame me for your suicide attempt?"

Loki opens his eyes and gives Thor a horrible glare.  "Of course not, what the - "

"Then why do you think Billy would blame you for his?  Why would you blame yourself?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but with slow realization and the dissipation of anger in his expression, Loki resolves himself to a sigh.

"Stop blaming yourself for everything," David scolds.  He pulls Loki into a tight hug, wrapping his arms carefully around him and cradling him.  "You've been having so much trouble getting better, and do you want to know why?  Because you haven't forgiven yourself.  Forgive yourself, Loki, and move on."

Loki buries his face in David's shoulder and doesn't say a word.

_

4.

Wanda's present early, and as every member trickles into the room, she can feel their eyes grazing over her.  Hill is the worst, walking slowly and deliberately, hoping to make eye contact, but she remains firmly with her eyes in her lap.  Maybe everyone will just assume she's too occupied with the "family emergency" that's been placed over her head.

Steve is the last to enter, rounding out the group and closing the doors behind him.  He doesn't even sit before he says, "We're going forward with the rescue."

Hill almost leaps out of her seat.  "Sir, I don't think - "

"We're rescuing all crew members," Steve continues, ignoring her.  "Knowledge of the emergency will be blamed on our closest naval base's routine checks.  The Russians aren't familiar with whatever technology we might or might not have, and it's a reasonable enough excuse.  Rescuers will be navy SEALs.  Is everyone clear?"

A general nod goes around the room.  Hill resigns into her seat, grumpy-faced and stubborn.

"I want to take a second now, before we all go down to supervise the rescue mission to recognize Madam Secretary, Wanda Maximoff.  This rescue plan was her doing, and with her strength and dedication, we will - hopefully - today be able to rescue over one hundred lives.  And all of this, she remains committed to in the wake of family troubles.  Let's have a round for Madam Maximoff."

A dull applause reaches her ears, but Wanda doesn't care about the lack of enthusiasm.  Steve is praising her.  Her competitor, her boss, and her friend is congratulating her on a job well done, and maybe it's the sleepless night or the stress on her emotions, but she's entirely too grateful to have someone like him on her side right now.  In fact, she really needs that.

As the room clears out, Wanda straggles behind.  She steps up to Steve with nerves swimming around her stomach.  With wobbly lips and wet eyes, she whispers, "Thank you."

"You don't have to stay and watch," Steve says immediately.  "Go.  Be with your son."

"It's okay," Wanda reassures.  "He won't wake for another eighteen hours yet, and Pietro is with him just in case."

Steve, without warning, pulls her into a firm hug. She melts into his arms and  lets a small dose of sobs escape her mouth. In return, Steve smooths a large hand across her hair.  Nothing feels like it's going to be okay right now, but a part of Wanda still believes that eventually it might be.

_

5.

Kate drops the last of Billy's boxes on the floor of the guest room.  His apartment was easy to clean out.  All of the drugs and alcohol were left out in the open, and the remainder of his things wasn't much.  So now they've moved onto to his new space, and Kate is confident that they can make it into a place that feels safe and homey for Billy.

"First things first," Erik says.  "We need to get the drugs cleared out of this room."

Kate blinks.  "Wait - "

"There is bound to be some hidden in here, since this is where he sleeps when he's over."

"You really think Billy's hidden drugs in the Secretary of State's house?" Kate asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do," Erik replies.  "He's an addict.  He's got drugs everywhere in case he needs them."

Kate looks around at the pristine room, thoroughly perplexed.  "Where the hell am I supposed to look?"

Erik pulls a pillow from the bed and unzips it before shoving his arm inside and feeling around.  "I'd start under the mattress, behind the drawers in the nightstand, and under the rugs."

Kate blanches.  "Christ," she mutters.

"I know," Erik mutters.  "My partner was an addict before he died.  He would hide drugs in the craziest places.  Luckily for Billy, I know them all by now."

Kate kneels on the floor and shoves her fingers between the mattress, her stomach heavy.  She's known Billy for almost ten years, and it scares her sometimes that she doesn't truly know how bad his illnesses have been.

_

6.

Tommy hasn't said a word since they boarded the plane.  David knows he isn't too keen on leaving D.C. while his brother's still in the hospital, but someone has to accompany David to the rescue site.  A surge of guilt fills David's stomach as he looks at Tommy's bloodshot eyes.  They wouldn't be here if David wasn't so difficult about journalistic integrity.

Tommy isn't even present in reality until an agent enters their compartment with menus.

"Lunch, Mr. Maximoff?"

He looks up with dead eyes.  "Oh, no - I'm not hungry, but - I'm sure David is."  He stretches and shifts his weight.  "I'd recommend the fillet cavatappi."

David takes the menu wordlessly and doesn't open it.  The agent departs and David peers closely at Tommy.  He's still out of it, but isn't entirely wrapped in his own mind anymore.

"This is your life," David says.  "This has been your whole life."

Tommy glances over at him.  "What?"

"First class and steak fillets whenever you want, but it wasn't all glamorous, was it?"

Tommy narrows his eyes.  "What?  Are you trying to get something out of me?  My mom only promised the submarine article."

"No," David says, taken slightly aback.  "No, I was just - I'm naturally an observer."  He sighs and drops the menu to the table.  "What was it like, Tommy - growing up in the White House?"

"Fine," Tommy replies automatically, and yet his appearance doesn't match at all.  Hair out of its usual gel, and a night without sleep bruised underneath his eyes, he looks awful.  "It was fine.  I grew up with my mom and brother.  My dad died when I was young, but Pietro was around.  I went to school, I dated girls, I drank underage.  Pretty much the usual."

"It wasn't usual at all," David argues without missing a beat.  He knows Tommy's just trying to shrug everything off because he doesn't trust David, but Tommy's fit to burst with all that he holds in, and why should he have to?  David's willing to listen.  Just listen.  Contrary to popular belief, he doesn't write everything down.

"No, no it really wasn't," Tommy agrees.  "I met twenty new people every day.  Paparazzi followed me every time I went out.  My first date was ruined by a camera chase, and my senior prom tracksuit still haunts me to do this day."

David snickers.  "That - that was bad."

"Worse than when I had a perm?" Tommy asks with a wince.  "I hated my hair when I was teenager.  Everyone at school called me 'Gramps.'  After that, they called me 'Foxy Grandpa.'"

David's laugh bursts from his throat, despite trying to hold it in.

"High school was hell," Tommy scoffs.  "But my experience wasn't anything near Billy's.  He - " Tommy breaks off to rub his hand across his mouth.  

“Tommy?” David says softly.

But he shakes his head.

“Tommy,” David repeats.  “You can talk to me.  We’re off the book.  One caretaker to another.”

Tommy lifts his head, swallows hard.  All of his vulnerability is concentrated in his eyes.  He gives a shuddering breath.

"Billy was bullied relentlessly.  And even though we had the Secret Service threaten a couple kids, nothing helped.  The media made everything worse.  We tried to hide all the bad publicity from Billy, but he couldn't escape it.  I don't even know how many adults, not even children, but adults told him to kill himself from ages fifteen to now.  He started drinking when he couldn't take it, and then - well, he finally took their advice."

He heaves a deep breath, hands shaking as he covers his mouth again.

"I've never told anyone this,” he whispers, barely audible, “but Billy's attempted suicide more than twice.  I found a note when we were sixteen.  And when he turned eighteen, the night of his birthday, I found him tying a noose.  He always made me promise to never say anything to Mom or Pietro, and I - I was a kid.  I didn't know what to do.  He threatened to kill himself right there if I didn't promise, and I just - I wanted to protect him."

His eyes have filled with tears, and David feels his own starting to burn.

"I know you're not a terrible person, David, but sometimes I can't differentiate.  I hate the media so much for exploiting him the way he did.  I mean the M in Maximoff might as well stand for 'mental illness', but Billy might have had a chance if he hadn't been brought down so young.  I mean - I've been managing anxiety pretty well for ten years, but Billy - Billy's always been so completely fucked."

A sob falls from his lips and he coughs to halt the rest.  "Mom and Pietro - they tried, but being a politician doesn't always allow you a lot of time for the family, and since Billy always had this facade he put on, no one suspected there was a real reason for his drinking other than being exposed to the party life."

He shakes his head and dissolves just enough to put his face in his hands.  A solid minute passes before he crumbles and his hands fall away.

"I've never stopped being afraid of losing him."

David swallows hard, and a chill has settled so deep inside him that his bones feel frozen.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he whispers  "I'm so sorry."

Tommy doesn't even glance at him, just pulls his knees up to his chest and leans his head against the back of his seat.  His eyes flutter shut and his breath accelerates until he has to force himself to stop altogether.

It's too late now, but David would give anything to turn the plane around.

_

7.

Billy's hand is warm.   It's that fact that keeps Pietro sane.  He's been at Billy's side for nearly sixteen hours now, and for the last two, he's kept Billy's hand in his.  For the most part, Billy's remained still, but every so often,  a hand will twitch, or his mouth, and a wave of momentary relief washes over Pietro.

Right now, Billy looks peaceful.  Both his oxygen levels and heartbeat are stable, and some color has already returned to his cheeks.  His head is turned to the side, and his mouth is parted slightly.  If Pietro imagines hard enough, Billy could be six years old again, passed out on the couch next to his favorite uncle.

Feeling the tears coming again, Pietro pulls Billy's hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to his fingers.

"You know," he says.  "I really tried to make it look like being a politician was an easy job - it was hell."  He laughs something painful.  "I remember once, after a particularly long day - I'd attended a debate on mutant rights - and I was - I was exhausted.  I got home and your mom was busy with Tommy.  I was going to bury myself in my study and drink, no doubt, but as I rounded the corner outside the living room, I heard you giggling.  You were out of control, and I thought to myself, 'What the hell could have a thirteen-year-old boy giggling like that - surely your mom hadn't let a girl into the house'?  I looked through the open door to your room to find you sitting on the floor, magic flying from your fingertips.  You kept turning the energy into various forms - animals, comic characters, a gross caricature of me.  It was hilarious, and I was so happy that your powers had finally settled in so nicely, and that they made you so happy.  You'd been so down and out and not yourself since the accident in the schoolyard, and it - it made my entire night that much better just to see you being yourself and being happy.  I don't know how long I stood there and watched you, but it's something that sticks with me as a testament to what an amazing person I know you are.  These past years have been so hard for you, Billy, I know, but when you love yourself like you did in that moment, you become the person I wish I could be."

He gives Billy's hand a squeeze and swallows hard, desperate to keep the sobs back.  He's too exhausted to cry anymore.  Thankfully, a knock diverts his attention.  He looks back to find a long swoosh of green hair coming through the doorway.  His knees crack as he stands up, but he accepts Lorna's running hug with confidence.

"How is he?" she asks as she pulls away, eyes not daring to glance at Billy until she knows.

"Stable," Pietro replies gravely.

Lorna looks to Billy's bed with apprehension.  "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"The morning, we hope.  He's been sedated to allow his body to recover, but they'll start to pull him off late tonight."

Lorna nods, her lips pressing together.

"Daddy?" Pietro turns around to find his daughter tugging at the hem of his shirt.  He can't help but smile as he leans down and picks her up to rest on his side.  She's grown in the past year; it's quite the struggle.

"Is Billy going to be okay?" she asks.  Her eyes are focusing hard on his form, and Pietro knows exactly what she's doing.

"He's very sick, and you know that, don't you?"  Pietro says.  "But yes, Luna.  Billy's going to be okay."

"I can't - I can't tell what's wrong with him."

Pietro presses his hand to his daughter's cheek.  "Shhh, Luna.  Don't strain yourself."

"What's wrong with him?" Luna presses.  "It's - his brain - "

"His brain is sick," Pietro offers.  "It doesn't work like it's supposed to, and it makes it really hard for Billy to do normal things."

"Why?"  Luna asks, and Pietro can tell by the furrow in her brow that she's entirely confused and beyond frustrated.  They're going to have a tough time leaving the healing to the medical professionals.  Luna doesn't do sad.

"You know when you're really sad - so sad that your chest hurts?  Like you can feel it in your heart?" Pietro asks, and Luna nods.  "Billy feels like that all the time.  It's really hard for him to be happy."

"I can't fix him, can I?" Luna asks, and her lip trembles.

"I'm afraid not, sweetheart," Pietro replies.  He dips in to kiss his daughter's cheek.  "Billy's going to spend a long time in the hospital after he wakes up.  But don't worry, you'll be able to visit him."

Luna sighs and rests her head against her father's.  "I just wish I could do something."

"I know," Pietro says.  "I know."

He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks to see Lorna stepping up beside him.  For the first time since finding Billy in his apartment, Pietro's starting to feel like he's not dying too.

_

8.

Loki doesn't really like the sun.  He burns far too easily and he hates being hot.  However, Thor insists fresh air is good for him, so they're sitting in a park swarming with children, and Loki wants nothing more than to crawl back to Verity's and hide under the covers.

"We can go as soon as you talk," Thor says.

Loki growls.  "I don't even know what you want, Thor.  What are we talking about?  Politics?"

Thor sighs heavily.  "Loki," he scolds.  "I want to know how you're really doing.  We've been avoiding this subject since I arrived.  It's time."

Loki falls back on the ground and stretches his arms out over his head.  He's wearing a t-shirt, which isn't smart, because now Thor can see all the new scars among the old.  When he catches Thor staring, Loki immediately brings his arms into his chest, but the damage is done.  He huffs loudly.

"I'm not - I haven't been doing very well, but it's not as bad as last time."

"What happened?" Thor asks gently, and it's the tone of voice that kills Loki.  He's not being overbearing, big-brother-fulfilling-his-brotherly-duties Thor.  He's just someone who genuinely cares and wants to know how to help.  And in reality, that's all he's ever tried to do - which is a lot more than anyone else.

"I did something bad," Loki replies.

Thor scoffs, and Loki can't help but crack a smile.  "That's so unlike you, brother."

"No - it - it's bad.  Really bad.  I - uh," he takes a deep breath.  "I mean, you heard me earlier when I was in pieces over Billy Maximoff, and you know that David and I broke up over journalistic disagreements.  I - I got drunk, and I found these medical documents that David got a hold of, and I - I published an article about Billy's first suicide attempt.  That whole thing - that was me.  I - uh - I ruined Billy's life."

"Loki," Thor breathes.

"I know," Loki chokes.  His eyes are brimming with tears again.  Every time he blinks he just sees Billy at the bar, drunk off his ass and struggling through every painful word.  Loki could see the suicidal ideation in every line of his face, and though he knows the reality of the situation, it still feels like he did a pretty damn good job of sinking Billy further into his depression.  "And then David left, and I - I was just left with the guilt.  Thor, I couldn't handle it.  I wanted to kill myself so badly."

Thor's voice is tight.  "Did you - "

"No," Loki says immediately.  "No, I didn't do anything.  Verity made sure of that."

"I'm glad," Thor replies.  Loki can't talk anymore.  He opens his mouth and instantly chokes up.  Seeing this, Thor pulls him into his arms and holds him there.  Loki eagerly rests his head on Thor's chest and just tries to breathe.  "You know that none of this is your fault, right, Loki?  If David obtained the medical documents, this story was bound to get out at some point.  You're not at fault for what Billy Maximoff did to himself."

"I know that," Loki sighs.  "However, it still feels like it."

"Keep talking to me," Thor insists.  "I'll help you learn to forgive yourself.  You know I will."

A painful smile works through Loki's mouth.  "I know," he says before shoving his face farther into Thor's shirt.

_

9.

Wanda's already on her way out, keys in hand, when Steve stops her in the middle of the hallway.  He grabs her by the elbow and gently swings her around to face him.

"Listen, Wanda - I didn’t get a chance before - I just wanted to ask how Billy's doing."

Wanda swallows hard.  She only knows what Pietro's told her, and she'd really just like to see him in person and get to judge for herself.

"Pietro assures me that he's stable.  I didn't - I thought the worst last night, but everyone keeps telling me he's going to be okay.  I'm just - I'm terrified."

Steve nods.  A hand comes up to rub at his stubble-filled chin.  "I'm so sorry, Wanda.  I don't know what else to say.  You - you know that I care about you, and Billy, and all of your family.  Please pass my well wishes along to them."

"I will," Wanda promises.   She turns to leave, but Steve stops her again.

"Wanda - "

"Look," Wanda starts, cutting him off, "I don't know what happened last night or why, but it did.  I - I enjoyed it, and I would do it again, but as you can imagine, I am extremely occupied with a plethora of other things right now, and engaging in a romantic relationship with not only my boss, but my future competitor is too much to even comprehend."

Steve nods and he's smiling awkwardly.  "I was going to say something less eloquent but among the same lines.  I - I certainly would be willing to  go out for drinks in the future, but I want you take care of your family first and do what you want with your career that makes you happy."

Wanda just stares at him for a long moment.  Her boss, Steve Rogers, President of the United States, is rocking back and forth subtly on his feet, hands stuffed in his pocket and the faintest hint of blush dusting his cheeks.  She wants to laugh, but if she started she might not ever stop because she'd want to hold onto that elated feeling forever.  Instead, she just smiles and shakes her head.

"You're too damn good for me, Steve Rogers."

He looks at her with raised eyebrows, unsure.

A laugh escapes her lips despite her, and she leans forward to peck Steve on the cheek before turning and leaving.  Her life might currently be a living hell, but at least she has Steve to keep her grounded.

_

10.

Kate has pretty much given up on the hunt for drugs and is now sitting back on her knees as Erik hobbles around the room and checks every potential hiding spot he can find.  He knocks on each floorboard and even listens to the walls for weakspots.  Kate watches, caught between awe and secondhand embarrassment.

"You said your partner was an addict.  How did you meet him?" Kate asks, mostly to fill the silence.

"I was a pretty big protester in my day," Erik says, kneeling on the floor and fixating his efforts on the armchair.  "I met Charles in the streets.  He was also fighting for mutant rights, but he was much softer than me, and constantly tried to get me to calm down.  It was to no avail," he says with a laugh.

"Oh - Charles Xavier, right?" Kate asks, suddenly making the connection.  "Your partner was Charles Xavier?  Professor X?"

Erik grins.  "Yes - yes.   You certainly know your mutant politics."

"Well, he started that school - "

Erik nods.  "During his last shot at sobriety.  It kept him going for awhile, but he was - Charles wasn't built for all that life threw at him."  Erik's eyes are sad, and Kate can see Tommy in them.

Kate can feel her windpipe tightening.  She thumbs her wrist as she stares at the floor.  "This must be really hard for you," she says quietly.  "I know how devastated I am over Billy, but you - you already have the experience."

Erik smiles sadly.  "Mein Geliebte, my son, my grandson - death is not so kind."

Kate feels her stomach lurch.  She had no idea that Pietro had ever . . . this family was worse off than she could have ever imagined.  She wants to engage every single person in an hour-long hug and tell them how much they all matter to her.  Coming from a home of no love and compassion, the Maximoffs are by far the only family she's ever had.

Occupied by her own empathy, Kate is shaken when Erik withdraws from his spot on the floor with an, "A-ha!"  In his hand is a small baggie filled with pills and what is definitely un-grinded weed.  Erik digs his hand in the bag and pulls out the bud.

"Flush the pills," he says, and tosses the bag at Kate.  "I've got a better way to get rid of this."

Kate blanches.  "You're not - serious?"

Erik just smirks.

"Oh, no - I  - I haven't smoked since college."

Erik shrugs.  "Now's as perfect a time as ever."

_

11.

With David's lunch comes a bottle of wine.  Tommy takes it eagerly and pours himself a glass.  In one drink, he drains half of it, grimacing as he lowers his hand.

"That's one way to wake up," he chokes.

"Are you sure you don't want food?" David asks.

Tommy shakes his head.  "Just alcohol's fine."

"You know, if you're nauseous, that's not really going to help."

Tommy shrugs and knocks back another drink.  As he does, his phone goes off, and he dribbles a little wine down his chin.  He sets the glass down before grabbing his cell from his pocket.  He takes a moment to read the message and then shakes his head.

"Kate," he clarifies.  "She's worried about me."

David nods, stabbing idly at his food.  "I'm worried about Loki," he says, which is kind of an accident.  He didn't really intend to say that out loud, but clearly his mouth isn't listening to his brain.  "My ex," he adds, because Tommy looks confused.

"Do you still have feelings for him?" Tommy asks.

David shrugs.  He's kind of been avoiding that subject himself.  "I mean - I'm not over him, exactly, but we agreed that we're healthier apart."  He sighs.  "Loki's just - he's been having a really hard time, lately.  He's - he's an alcoholic, too.  Actually, he and Billy are in the same AA group."

Tommy raises an eyebrow.  "Really?  Small world."

"He relapsed pretty badly," David says quietly.  "And then I think what's been going on with Billy hits too close to home for him."

Tommy shakes his head and takes another drink of wine.  "I'm sorry, man. It's tough."

"I called his brother," David says, and something clicks as he looks at Tommy pointedly.  "He's been doing a lot better."

A sad smile warps Tommy's lips.  "I wish it was that easy for Billy.  He barely talks to me anymore."

"Oh, it's not easy for Loki and Thor either," David assures.  "But Loki's better when he's with him."

Tommy sighs heavily.  "I can't - I don't want to talk about this."

David bites his lip.  "That's okay - talk - talk about Kate.  How's the wedding planning going?"

Instantly, Tommy smiles.  "It's going well.  Kate's doing most of it because I'm too happy just to be marrying her to care what everything looks like.  Plus, I'm a lot busier.  Being the head of a nonprofit is pretty hard, but somehow Kate makes it look easy."

"She's so passionate," David remarks, and Tommy nods.

"That's why I love her."

David looks down to his food, feeling a lot less hungry.  Even now, he can remember when he felt about Loki the way Tommy feels about Kate.  It  makes his chest ache.

_

12.

Tommy called him in the middle of the night and left a message, but Teddy's been too scared up until now to brave the hospital.  It didn't even register at first.  All he could hear was a croaky voice struggling to speak gibberish.  Then it settled in.

_"Hi, Teddy - it's Tommy.  I don't know if you've spoken to Billy recently, or what - or if you're awake, or if you're still looking for him, or whatever, but - he's here.  Here as in - in the hospital.  He, um - Pietro got a suspicious call earlier and he and the police went to Billy's apartment.  He overdosed.  Intentionally.  That suspicious caller told Pietro he thought Billy was going to attempt suicide again, and he - he did.  He got his stomach pumped, but everything's unstable.  He was unconscious when Pietro found him, but still alive.  He's been sedated and we're waiting to hear how much damage was done.  We don’t - we don’t really know if - we still have to see if he makes it through the night.  The doctors say there’s a good chance, but it’s all up in the air now.  I know you'll probably want to see him, so I made sure you're on the list of family members.  You can come by at any time to see him..  After he recovers, he'll be transferring to a psych hospital, most likely.  So, yeah.   I'm sorry you had to find out from this message, but I didn't want to wait to see you in person because I don't know when that would be.  We're all here for you, Teddy.  Just give any of us a call."_

No one had called him in the morning.  Teddy waited.  Maybe they were sleeping through it all, but then noon passed and it was clear that Billy had made it.

Though it was nearly impossible, and Teddy would have wanted to know right away, he still kind of wishes someone would have told him in person, because he's spent the following twelve hours on the floor, bawling his eyes out and blaming himself.  The main reason he's braving Billy and his family now is because if he continues isolating himself, his own suicidal thoughts will go through the roof, and the Maximoffs don't need another attempt on their hands.

His ears ring as a nurse leads him to Billy's room.  His palms are sweaty and his fingers are shaking.  She asks if he's really okay to see his boyfriend, and he nods viciously.  He can't hold it off any longer.  No doubt Billy's entire family is wondering where the hell he is.

When the door cracks in, Teddy's heart actually stops beating.  He sees Pietro first, accompanied by someone with green hair and a young girl.  He doesn't want to look, but his eyes betray him, and then all he sees is Billy.  Billy, lying in a hospital bed, wrapped in a thermal blanket, pale and dead-looking.  Nasal plugs deliver him oxygen, and several wires monitor his vitals, his organs, and his bloodstream.  Teddy's heart rips in half, and then his knees are buckling underneath him.  Both the nurse and Pietro rush toward him and catch him before he hits the ground.  A chair is thrust underneath him, and he collapses into it.

"Teddy?" Pietro asks, hand on the side of his head.  "Teddy, are you okay?"

He nods, swallowing against the bile in his throat.

"This is my fault," he breathes.  "This is - I did this.  I said all these awful things.  I shouldn't have said them.  I should have kept my mouth shut, but I - I was so angry, and Billy.  He told me to stop, that he - he couldn't handle it, but I - and then he - he hung up and he - he did this.  Oh my god, he - he tried to - again - and it's my fault.  It's my fault.  It's all my fault."

"Teddy?  Teddy, calm down - "

But he can't.  His breath just keeps coming, faster and faster, and it intermingles with sobs, and he can't breathe.  He can't breathe at all because he's choking on his own tears and spit and people are standing all around him calling his name, and he honestly thinks he might pass out.  He closes his eyes.

The nurse yells something, and then a paper bag is thrust in his face.

"Breathe into it," Pietro demands, and Teddy listens.

He wraps the bag tight around his mouth and just breathes.  Several times the sobs almost overtake him again, but he fights it, reminding himself that this is Billy's hospital room, and if he passes out inside of it then everyone will be fussing over him and not monitoring Billy.  He breathes.  In, out.  In, out.  In, out.  Soon enough, everything is evened out and normal.  He pulls the bag away from his face and gives one last stuttering sigh.

"Teddy listen to me," Pietro says immediately.  "You cannot blame yourself for this.  Billy made his own decision.  Whatever happened between you two last night has nothing to do with this.  You're a smart kid, Teddy, and I know you've gone through enough, and gotten enough help to think about this properly."

Teddy nods.  His lips tremble as he tries to speak.  "I know.  I know.  But whatever the outcome, I shouldn't have said the stuff I did."

Pietro clasps his shoulder.  "I'm sure when Billy wakes up, he will have the utmost forgiveness."

_

13.

With Billy's room filled to near maximum capacity, Wanda expects it to be a little louder when she steps inside.  However, Teddy is passed out in a chair next to Billy's bed, hand just mere centimeters from Billy's atop the sheets.  Luna sits in her father's lap, solemn and silent.  Lorna's reading a book, and Pietro sits methodically stroking his daughter's hair.

"Hello, everyone," she whispers as she pulls her blazer off.  Lorna looks up with a smile on her face and hurries across the room.  She embraces her sister warmly.

"How are you?" Lorna asks.

"Tired," Wanda asks, honest.  "You?"

"Jetlagged."

"Where was it this time?  Puerto Rico?"

Lorna smiles, impressed.  "Correct."

She retreats, and Wanda glances at Teddy, then Pietro.  "How'd he take it?"

"He hyperventilated and collapsed," Pietro replies.  "Luna had to work some magic."

Wanda shakes her head.  "Poor kid."  Even in sleep, Teddy's face is contorted with worry.  "He really loves Billy, doesn't he?"

Pietro hums affirmatively as Wanda pulls up an empty chair to the other side of Billy's bed.  He's shifted some in his sleep, which is a good sign.  His breathing is strong and steady, and Wanda's never felt relief stronger than she has now.  She presses the back of her hand to his forehead and sighs.

"You know, back in high school when he first started getting bad - I really thought it would pass.  I was so naive.  I should have done something, anything."

"Wanda, don't," Pietro whispers.

"He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for us.   We were so concerned with the world that we didn't give him nearly enough attention.  Fatherless, bullied, wracked with mental illness - he just wanted help, Pietro.  That's all he ever wanted.  If we had put half the effort into taking care of him that we put into our political careers, he wouldn't be here."

Her eyes are wet, and her vision blurs.  She's not about to blame herself entirely for Billy's suicide attempts, but she's not going to ignore the responsibility she failed to uphold.

Pietro sighs heavily.  "You're right."

"You guys," Lorna says, disapproving.

"No," Wanda says firmly.  "It's something we have to live with.  We failed him, and this is the result."

She closes her eyes for a long moment, and lets the tears boil over underneath her eyelashes.

"We're not going to fail him anymore," she whispers.  "Never again."

_

14.

Never in her life would Kate have predicted this moment: sitting at the bar in the kitchen of the Secretary of State's house, smoking weed with her soon to be father-in-law.  She takes another hit from the pipe and leans back to blow the smoke out.

"Shit," she mutters.  "I forgot how good this stuff felt.  No wonder Billy loves drugs."

"Don't hog the pipe now," Erik snickers, plucking it from her hand.

"Give me the chips," Kate shoots back, and she rips the Doritos from the counter before Erik can grab them.

Erik coughs after his hit, and then lets out a howl.  Kate bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god," she wheezes.  "I didn't know you Maximoffs knew how to have fun."  She takes the pipe back.  "At least - outside of Billy."  She sucks in.  "Of course, he overdoes it."  She blows the smoke out.  "But, Erik - you're _hilarious_."

Erik smirks,  "And to think I'm _German_."

"My grandparents have sticks up their asses," Kate says, offering the pipe back up to Erik.  "And I think my dad must have a whole fucking walking stick."

"Who's your dad again?" Erik asks, slurring his speech.  "Forgive me.  I get stupid when I'm not sober.” He pauses.  “Or is it the other way around?"

"Mark Bishop," Kate answers, before stuffing her face with more chips.  "He's that tight-ass who owns Bishop Enterprises.  When I took up archery, I used to put pictures of his face on the target board.  I can't fucking wait until my last name is Maximoff."

"You're so hostile," Erik chuckles.  "Are you sure you're not German?"

Kate holds open her arms.  "I'm as American as you can get.  I'm pretty sure my ancestors just sprouted from the ground in New England.  My family is so racist and privileged it's sickening.  They've disowned me," she adds, matter-of-fact.

Erik nods.  "I was wondering why the guest list seemed so small."

"I'm not letting any of them near my wedding," she says with a snort.  Erik hands her the pipe and she checks to see what's left.  Almost everything is ashes.  "Do we have any more?"

Erik checks the baggie, surprised when he finds it empty.  "I guess not."

"Damn," Kate hisses.  "Oh, well.  This - this is going to last awhile."

Erik laughs and brings a glass of scotch to his lips.  Kate raises an eyebrow.

"I don't get the munchies," Erik explains.  "When I'm high I get the drunkies - uh, drinkies."

Kate barks another laugh, throwing herself forward on the counter.  It takes her a minute to calm down, and when she does, she asks, "Got anything sugary in this house?"

_

15.

Both David and Tommy are on the floor, a new bottle of wine between them.  They alternate drinks, and both are already well and truly drunk - Tommy more so though than David.  He heaves a sigh and falls on his back.

"Alright, your turn - go for it."

David hums, thinking for a moment.  "What's the most embarrassing thing you have on your iPod?"

Tommy whistles.  "Man, I'm not embarrassed about any of it."

"Really?" David presses.

Tommy shoots his phone across the carpet.  "Do your worst."

David snatches it up and starts scrolling.  "Mmmm . . . alt-J, Arcade Fire, Arctic Monkeys, AWOLNATION, Back - Backstreet Boys?" David asks incredulously.  "Are you fucking serious, Tommy?"

"Umm - BSB rocks," Tommy retorts with a scoff.  He pulls himself upward and looks pointedly at David.  "And I don't know if you know this, but - "  He clears throat and sings, _"Backstreet's back alright,"_ complete with a dance.

David chucks Tommy's phone back at him.  Tommy catches it with no problem, but points his finger at David and says seriously, "You keep that up, there's going to be trouble.  This phone is brand new.  Billy threw my old one off the face of a mountain."

"Did he witness your singing too?" David asks.

Tommy grabs a pillow from the couch behind him and throws it at David.  He successfully blocks it, then charges at Tommy on his hands and knees.  Tommy's tries to use his powers, but he fucks up.  He's too drunk to use them with any sort of control or coordination.  Instead, the two of them end up on top of one another.

David laughs and waggles an eyebrow.  "Are you looking to get smooched?"

Tommy rolls off of him and slaps his knee.  "No, you pervert."

"Oh, come on," David hums.  He crawls across the floor, eyes dark as he peers up at Tommy.  "You don't want any of this fine, chocolate ass?"

"David - "

Almost absently, David runs his hands up Tommy's thigh.  Tommy slaps it away with half a laugh.

"David, stop - you're freaking me out!"

He grunts as he turns over and sits cross-legged next to Tommy instead.  "Sorry.  I get handsy when I'm drunk."

"Clearly," Tommy scoffs.  He turns his head, and that's when David notices the blush on his neck and the uneasiness in his eyes.

"Tommy," he prods as he leans away.  "Tommy, I'm sorry - I didn't - I wasn't trying to - I'm sorry if I hit a nerve or - or triggered you, or - "

Tommy whips his head back and holds up his hands.  "No, no - David, it's okay."  He looks just as frightened as David feels, and both of them stand up cautiously.

"Tommy, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Tommy promises, but he still looks so uncomfortable.

"What's wrong, then?" David asks.  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but - "

Tommy doesn't even take a second to think.  He just blurts it out.  "I'm asexual."

David blinks.  "Really?"

"Y - yeah," Tommy says.  He bites his lip and turns on his heel, arms coming up and crossing over his chest.

"No - " David says quickly.  "Tommy, don't - It's okay, man.  It's okay, I was just - I'm sorry," he murmurs and smacks himself in the face.  "I'm not used to people coming out to me unless they're trying to get in my pants.  Usually I'm the one doing the coming out."

A shake of Tommy's shoulders indicates a laugh and he turns around.  "Well, yeah - nobody except Billy and Kate know."  He rubs the back of his neck.  "I'm too embarrassed to tell anyone else."

"Why?" David asks.

"Because, then - then everyone's going to butt their heads into my sex life, and I don't - I don't need that.  Kate and I have everything worked out and I am who I am and no amount of prodding and pushing is going to change me."  He huffs after he finishes his mini-rant, which was said in less than roughly six seconds.

David raises an eyebrow and chews on his lip.  "Only out of curiosity - what kind of stuff do you and Kate have worked out?"

Tommy blushes a deep red, but answers anyway.  "We still have sex because I'm not incapable of a boner.  I like sex every so often but I prefer to eat her out and finger her instead of getting naked myself most of the time."  He shrugs a few times, almost like he's trying to crawl out of his skin.  "She's satisfied and I'm satisfied so - it's fine.  It all works out."  His jaw snaps shut, and David can't hold the smile inside.  Tommy's too adorable when he's embarrassed.

"Hey, Tommy?"

"Yes?"

"Chill," David urges with a clap on his shoulder.  "I'm not going to tell anyone, and there's no judgment from me whatsoever.  Keep being you, man."

Tommy smiles, lopsided and sloppy.  He's still drunk as hell.

_

16.

The social worker has definitely noticed him by now.  He's been pacing the halls, waiting for Billy's room to empty.  Teddy left long ago, but Wanda remains, and Loki's been waiting, sitting out in the lobby, turned toward Billy's room until she leaves to get food, or something, _anything_.

It takes a full hour, but eventually, she departs from the room on her phone, arguing with someone on the other line.  Loki doesn't waste a second.  He catches the door just as it swings shut and steps inside.  It's dark, only the lamp on the side table giving any light.  Loki steps forward.

Billy looks just like Loki would expect, having just almost succeeded in killing himself.  He's dead asleep, and his body barely moves when he breathes.  It's _terrifying_.

"Fuck," Loki hisses under his breath.

He stops at the foot of Billy's bed and looks at his face.  His eyes are so dark it looks like someone gave him two black eyes, and his lips blend right into the rest of his skin.

On the other hand, all of the monitors show that his body is recovering.  His breathing his stable, his heartbeat is stable, and his blood pressure is healthy.  He'll be out in a couple of days.

It hasn't hit Loki until now, and while he may have stirred up shit with that article, Billy would probably dead if it wasn't for him.  If Loki hadn't made that call, - he doesn't even want to think about it.  He's not happy about this situation, but he'd rather be standing over Billy's bed than his grave.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.  "Billy, I'm sorry."

His throat is tight, and he's pretty sure that's tears stinging his eyes.  He breathes deep.

"Billy, I - " he looks down at his feet and shakes his head.  "I'm sorry I had any hand in making life harder for you.  You don't deserve this.  If anyone deserves to be in this bed, dying or not, it's me.  You - you deserve to be happy, and god, I barely know you - we - we've flirted a couple times, and we share stories with every other moron in that group, but we've never had a real conversation, and I still - I still care so much about you.  Everyone cares so much about you, and you - you're probably the purest person I've ever met.  This world is too fucking cruel."

He kicks himself in the foot and turns around.

If the world has fucked over Billy Maximoff this badly, then there's no hope for him.

_

17.

Wanda's dozing off when the sheets rustle.  She doesn't register what that means until a croaky voice asks, "Mom?"  She's wide awake in the fraction of a second, propelling herself out of her chair.  She braces herself on the side of Billy's bed as he looks up at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Wh - where am I?" he asks, eyelids fluttering as he attempts to lift his head and look around.

"You're in the hospital, sweetie," Wanda says, smoothing back the hair from his forehead.

His eyes go wide, and Wanda knows the memories are coming back.

"Shit," he rasps.  "Shit, shit, shit."

"Hey - Billy," Wanda says in her most soothing voice.  She leans forward just slightly and cups her son's face in one hand.  "Billy, it's okay - "

"Oh, god - I'm so stupid," he mutters, rolling his head back and forth on his pillow.  Tears fill his eyes, and he looks up through them at his mother.  "I'm so sorry, Mom.  I'm so sorry.  I was drunk, and - and angry, and I hadn't felt that low in months, and I - it was mistake.  I'm so sorry."

"Billy it's okay, I promise.  You're okay now.  Everything's going to be okay."

A squeaky sob escapes him.  "I'm so sorry," he says again, voice broken.  "I'm - I'll get help.  I'll get whatever help you think I need.  If that’s - that’s rehab, or pills, or - or - "

"Billy," Wanda says again, firmer than the last.  She takes his head in both her hands and leans down all the way to kiss his forehead.  He sniffles.  "Don't worry about any of that now.  Just rest."

"Is everyone else okay?" Billy asks.  "Is Teddy - ?"

"He was here earlier," Wanda replies.  She rubs her thumb across his cheek.  "He's okay.  He's staying with everyone else at the house."

"Everyone else?" Billy asks.  His eyelids are starting to droop again, and Wanda is thankful.  She's just noticed herself that her heart is beating too fast for comfort.

"Lorna and Luna arrived in town this afternoon."

"Shit," Billy says again, but his eyes are fluttering shut.

"They love you, Billy.  That's all there is to it."  She kisses his cheek now and then stands up fully as he drifts back to sleep.  Within seconds, light, airy snores sound in the air.

Wanda turns back to her seat, but is disrupted when the door to Billy's room opens.  Pietro steps through, freshly showered and shaved, wearing much more comfortable clothing.  He’s gentle as he shuts the door.

"How is he?" he asks, taking slow steps into the room.

"He woke up for just a second," Wanda informs him.

"That's good," Pietro says.  "That's good."

"He was a little panicky, but he calmed down and fell right back asleep."

Pietro nods.  "He needs the rest."

Wanda sighs.  "I don't want to leave him."

Pietro claps her on the shoulder and pulls her in for a quick hug.  "I handled him before, Wanda.  He'll be okay if you go home and handle everyone else."

Wanda swallows hard and looks back to her son.  "Tell me if he wakes up again, okay?"

"I promise," Pietro says.  "I'll tell you every detail."

Wanda smiles and gives him a fuller, tighter hug.  "Thank you, Pietro.  For everything."

_

18.

Long off their high, but not done with each other, Kate and Erik sit at the bar, cornered away from everyone else.  Teddy's occupying Luna, losing in a heated game of Monopoly.  Lorna and Wanda sit together, watching something on the History Channel, though neither of them are really paying attention.  Kate and Erik have only ceased conversation to eat and catch up on news about Billy.  Otherwise, she's been pretty happy to keep developing this newfound kinship with him.

Erik's currently telling her another one of his protest horror stories.  They're both interrupted by the buzzing of her phone.  She pulls out it to see that Tommy's texted her.

_We've landed.  Heading out to the Naval base_   
_now.  Should be a couple of hours.  I love you,_   
_Katie.  Goodnight if I don't get to say it._   
_Service is limited out here._   
**Read 9:07**

She smiles and texts him back.

_Thank you for letting me know, Tommy. I love you_   
_too.  So much.  Stay safe and have fun.  No more_   
_word yet on Billy, by the way.  Pietro says he'll_   
_probably sleep through the night since he woke_   
_up right after being lifted from the sedatives._   
**Sent**

"Katherine."

She jumps in her seat and looks up to find a startled Erik staring at her phone.  She looks back, worried that sexts are visible, but everything on the screen is about Billy or the rescue mission.  She looks back to Erik, confused.

"What?"

He grabs her arm wordlessly and turns it up so that they're both looking directly at the inside of it.  She doesn't get it at first, but then it hits her that they're staring at her scars.

"Billy used to do that," Erik breathes.  He swallows hard.

"I know," Kate says.  "He's the one who helped me stop, and I helped him."

"Why?" Erik asks.

Kate takes a deep breath.  "I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I - I was raped when I was sixteen.  In the middle of Central Park.  I didn't know him.  He was drunk."

Erik looks horrified, staring at her for just a second before he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a surprisingly tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, Katherine."

She smiles as they pull away.  "I'm okay now, Erik, but thank you."

"Do you talk to Tommy about it?" Erik asks, and Kate nods.  "Good.  And know that you're always welcome to talk to me as well.  I know you've probably heard a lot of bad things about me, but I hope after today you know that I'm always here for anyone I consider family, and you're family, Kate."

She smiles again, but mostly to herself.  "Thank you, Erik.  It's really good to hear that."

_

19.

In the morning, after the rescue goes through without a hitch, Wanda tells Steve she'll be taking the rest of the week off and proceeds to the hospital.  Teddy's already there, and Billy's up, sipping on something that looks like a smoothie as Teddy reads from his phone.  Billy's weak, but he's smiling.

"Hello, boys," Wanda says cheerfully as she steps through the door.

"Hi, Ms. Maximoff," Teddy says after clearing his throat.

"How are you feeling, bud?"  Wanda asks, rounding the bed and taking the seat across from Teddy.

Billy shrugs.  "Everything hurts.  Whatever I'm being forced to eat is gross - so nauseous, but that also might just be left over.  Also it's hard to breathe."  His nose wrinkles around the nasal plugs.

Wanda pouts, grabs Billy's hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze.  "You'll be feeling better soon.  I just spoke with your doctor and you've made a lot of improvement over the past twenty-four hours.  You'll be out by the weekend."

Billy chews at his lip.  "Just out of this room, though, right?"

Wanda shifts her weight.  "Actually, I talked with your uncle this morning, and we're not going with the hospital's program.  He found a really, really good center upstate.  It's remote and quiet, and one of the best nationally ranked rehabilitation programs in the country.  You're not going specifically for alcohol either, but depression first."

Billy nods.  "That - that sounds really good, actually."

"We'll give them a call as soon as we know when you're being released and see when they can take you."

With watery eyes, Billy tries to push himself into a better sitting position, but Wanda's read his mind.  She pulls herself from the chair and sits on the edge of the bed.  Careful and conscious of Billy's weak body, she wraps her arms around him and hugs him as tight as he allows.

"I love you, Mom," he struggles into her ear.

"I love you too, Billy," she whispers.  "And I'm going to make sure you never forget that."

 


	6. Episode 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it, kids! We're here! The final chapter! Hopefully, it feels a bit less emotionally draining than the rest. I was trying to go for that. Happy endings, or whatever.
> 
> But as usual, the warnings for this chapter include: warnings: evidence of overdose (2), ableism (6 - it’s obscene, 8), alcohol consumption (7), depictions of a disaster (13, 14, 15, 16),

1.

It's way past the time that Wanda should be home, being with her family and getting the house cleaned and cleared before Billy returns home tomorrow.  Except Wanda can't concentrate on anything else until she gets this finished.  Her resignation, that is.  She's been sitting at her desk for over an hour, muscles taut and chest uncomfortably heavy.  What she has so far is enough, surely, but she feels like she needs more.

       Dear President Rogers,

       These past few years have been some of the most important of my life.  I have learned a great deal under your leadership, and I will always treasure my time in this office.  The responsibilities I have upheld and the duties I have practiced carry on into other parts of my life, so it is with a heavy heart, but a hopeful mind, that I must resign as Secretary of State of the United States Executive Branch.  Both personal and professional issues have lead me to this decision, and I choose to enforce it now while morals are clear.  My family is in need of a mother, a sister, and a daughter, and only I can fill that position.  My professional career is unclear to me now, and I fear that my work will suffer if I continue with a conscience that is unsure of what it wants.  I hand off my position most respectively and willingly.  I trust my successor to uphold the ground I have built, and therefore hold no doubt in this change.  Please accept my utmost gratitude and sincerest apologies for which I have brought upon this decision.

       Sincerely yours,

       Wanda Maximoff

       Secretary of State

She sets her pen down, a heavy sigh escaping her lungs.  She isn't having second thoughts; she knows this is the best course of action for her and her family.  The only thing holding her back is the reaction - the reaction from Steve, the reaction from her family, and the reaction of the American public.  David printed the story about Billy having an allergic reaction, but she knows most people won't believe it.  The coincidences of the situation are too obvious, and if she doesn't take the time to help heal her family, this will only keep happening.  She only hopes the public can understand and respect her decision.

Her phone goes off, adding another text to the string she's already received from her brother.

_Just got off the phone with the main doctor_   
_at the center.  They won't have an open bed_   
_for another two weeks, so Billy will have to_   
_stay with us until then._   
**Read 8:37**

_Wanda?_   
**Read 9:02**

_Everything is ready for Billy's release_   
_tomorrow.  All the paperwork is filled out_   
_and I just talked with him.  He says he still_   
_feels a little weak, but is otherwise well._   
_Kate and Dad already deep-searched the_   
_place, right?  Just making sure._   
**Read 9:24**

_Wanda._   
**Read 9:46**

_Wandaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa._   
**Read 9:52**

_Okay, will you at least call me so I know_   
_you haven't had a stress-induced heart_   
_attack?_   
**Read 10:04**

Another sigh, and Wanda picks up her phone to dial her brother's number.  He answers at the end of the first ring.

"Finally," he huffs.  "I've been trying to reach you all night."

"I know," Wanda says.  She rubs at her eyes, her temples, the side of her neck.  "You've called me over ten times."

Pietro snickers.  "The last nine were just to annoy you."

Wanda rolls her eyes.  "I'm working on something very important, Pietro."

"Hate mail to David Alleyne?  He's been a real prick about all of this."

"My resignation," Wanda clarifies, and the following silence is suffocating.  She waits, until the other line crackles with Pietro's exhalation.

"Wanda, I - "

"You don't have to say anything," Wanda assures.  "I know it's early.  I know it's maybe not what you would have done, but it's a decision I had to make.  I don't know what's going to happen to my career from here, and I don't really care.  I just want my family to be okay."

"Wanda?" Pietro asks, almost too quick, as if he hadn't really been listening to her.

"Yes?" Wanda asks, slightly irritated.

"You're an incredible mother.  Sister, too.  I love you."

Wanda feels something in her chest constrict.  Her eyes sting, and she takes a stuttering breath.  "Thank you, Pietro.  I love you too.  I'll see you at home."  She hangs up before Pietro can hear the even shakier breath she takes next.

She doesn't know why or how her life became this hard and this complicated, but the last week has made it abundantly clear that there is only one thing she cares about being, and being good at it, at that.  She doesn't need to President.  She doesn't need a career that rivals her brothers.  She just needs her children, alive, happy, and with her.

_

2.

Billy is finally dressed in his own clothes when Pietro shows up.  His room has been cleaned, his bed made and a wheelchair waits to escort him out to the car.  He's still extremely sore, and while he's off the oxygen, his lungs are still full of rage and protest.  He's not going to be running any marathons any time soon.

"Alright, kiddo," Pietro says, tossing Billy's jacket to him.  "You ready to go home?"

Billy slides the jacket on carefully over his button-up.  He lowers himself into the wheelchair.  "When am I going to rehab?"

"Not for a couple of weeks," Pietro says, stepping up behind his nephew and taking the handles of the wheelchair.  He unlocks the wheels and begins pushing it out into the hall with caution.  "They don't have a room for you yet, but they should by then."

"How long am I going to stay?" Billy asks, and his voice has grown quiet.

"I don't know," Pietro answers honestly.  "Depends on the evaluation when you get there.  It might be awhile."

Billy nods.  "I know."  He hangs his head, and he finds it harder to breathe than usual.  Pietro's hand comes down on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

"Whatever happens, it'll be for the best.  You're strong, Billy.  Stronger than you think or give yourself credit for."

Billy smiles, small and painful.  They round a corner, coming up on the lobby, and through the doors is a crowd of paparazzi and press.  Billy closes his eyes and puts his face in his hands.  A nurse rushes up from the desk, stopping in front of them.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes.  "Someone must have tipped them off."

Billy throws out his hands and puts them on the wheels.  Pietro lets out a surprised noise and pulls the chair to a halt.  With as much strength as he can muster, Billy pushes himself up and takes the floor.

"Well," he grunts.  "Let's get this over with."

_

3.

They meet behind a meat-packing plant.  The stench of it hangs in the air, and thoughts are interrupted by the beeping of large trucks.  Loose gravel crackles underneath Tommy's shoes as he hops from the car and walks toward David.  The envelope in his hand rustles with the blow of the wind.

"Tommy?"

Tommy practically shoves the envelope into David's hand without a word.  Slightly crumpled, David stares at it for a moment before asking, "What is this?"

"My mom's resignation letter," Tommy says.

David's eyes flash wide.  "Your mom's - ?"

"Yes, her resignation letter," Tommy repeats.  "And this is it - this means I'm done.  No more double agent.  I'm done going back and forth giving you everything on her campaign.  And - and about what I told you - "

"I know," David says with an irritated sigh that makes Tommy want to punch him.  This is important. Tommy saw what happened to Billy when he came out of the closet, and Tommy's never going there because he never needs to.  "I won't say anything, Tommy."

"Promise?" Tommy asks with a raised eyebrow.  "Because if I find even the smallest hint of rumors, David, I swear to god - "

David holds his hands up in violent surrender.  "I'm not going to say a word.  Journalists have codes of conduct, Tommy.  Including me.  Especially me.  I'm bisexual, and it took me years to be okay with it.  I'm not going to out you, for the love of god.  I would hope you thought more highly of me than that."

Tommy takes a deep breath, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.  "Look, I don't - everything with you has been so back and forth.  I'm not sure where your morals lie, David.  One moment, you try to help us, the next all you care about is your career."

David nods.  Quiet, he gives a humorless laugh.  "You sound just like my ex," he mumbles.  There's a long, awkward moment of silence.  "Bottom line is - I want to help people I care about, that includes your family, but I can't compromise too much of my career to do it.  Your mom understands that, of all people."

He turns without another word and gets back into his car.  Tommy stands there, dumbfounded and anxious while David drives away.  He doesn't know what's happened to him lately, or why he can't bring himself to trust a single soul, but it's really starting to get on his nerves.

_

4.

The wind is sharp today, and it bites at Wanda's cheeks.  The airplane engine doesn't help either.  She can hardly hear herself think, let alone talk loud enough for Steve to hear her, but that's what she's doing.  She showed up in the oval office expecting to see Steve, but found out instead that he was preparing to leave for an emergency conference.

Now she's out here, chasing Steve down on the track, her resignation letter flapping in the wind.  He's just getting out of his car when she reaches him, slightly breathless.

"Wanda?" he asks, surprised.

"I'm sorry to do this right now," Wanda says, producing the letter in front of him, "but there's no other time."

Steve takes it, glances at it, and then gives it back.  "I don't want this."

Wanda huffs.  "Steve, we're not arguing about this.  This is my decision - "

"I'm not arguing either," Steve says plainly.  "I can't and I won't accept this."

Wanda purses her lips.  It took a long time for her to come to this and to be brave enough to write this letter, and now Steve wants to play games?  "Look, this is not outside of my contract, Steve, and frankly, I find this rather out of character that you would - "

"Run with me."

Wanda almost doesn't hear it.  She splutters through a few more sounds before she stops and blinks.  "What?"

"Run with me," Steve repeats, and the little shit is smiling.  "Be my vice president, Wanda."

She shakes her head.  "What about Carol?"

Steve shrugs.  "She wasn't sure about running again.  So run with me, Wanda."

She hangs her head.  An overwhelmed sigh breathes through her and she reaches a hand to her forehead.  Too much has happened, and too much is still happening.  She feels like she has no control over her life, like she's just a snowball tumbling down the side of a mountain, growing bigger and bigger until she crashes and explodes.

"I don't know, Steve," she blurts out.  "I thought - I thought I had everything figured out, but - "

Steve closes the space between them and lays a hand on her shoulder, then moves it, gripping the side of her neck.  "It's okay, Wanda.  I don't need an answer now.  Give me an answer when I come back, okay?"

She swallows hard, thinking she must be crazy to even consider this.

"Okay," she breathes, and nods.  "Okay."

"Good," Steve replies.  He rubs his thumb gently over her skin and then pulls away.  "I'll see you soon, Wanda.  Take care of your family for now.  You can take off until I get back.  I'll let Carol know."

She continues nodding, like it's a reflex action.  "Okay - th - thank you, Steve."

He waves and then departs, heading for the entrance of the plane.  She stares after him, feeling like her insides have been smashed and thrown by a tornado.  Life keeps dragging her around, and she really doesn't even know how she's been able to stay on her feet.

_

5.

Billy stuffs the last of his clothes in the dresser and pushes it shut with a huff.  Grunting, he throws himself in one of the chairs next to his bookshelf.  Tommy sits in the other, and Kate remains standing, looking around and checking her work.

"Pathetic," Billy mutters.  "Twenty-seven years old and I'm moving back in with my mother."

Kate whirls around at that comment and stares him down.  "William," she chides, and he grimaces.  He hates when she calls him that, but he deserves it.  "You're not pathetic, and you better stop that train of thought right now."

Billy rolls his eyes, but Tommy sticks his hand up and points at his brother.  "Kate's right."

"You're just saying that because she's your fiancée," Billy scoffs.

Tommy shakes his head.  "No, no - I'm serious.  You're not pathetic, Billy, and no one believes that.  In fact, I'm really proud of you for being so willing to get help."

Billy chews at his lip and avoids both of their gazes.  He knows he wants help, and he knows he needs it, but he still doesn't feel so great about the fact that he's living such a monitored life.  It's upsetting that he can't live on his own or be trusted with most other aspects of his life.  Sometimes, he just wishes he didn't have to be like this at all.  Sure, he can learn to manage the depression and the addiction, but how is it fair that he has to go to all this extra work just to live a life that doesn't make him want to kill himself every minute?

He sighs.  "I don't know - I just - it sucks, you know?"

Both Tommy and Kate nod.

"It's going to be worth it, though," Kate says.  She steps slowly across the wood floors until she reaches the bed.  She lowers herself to the edge and turns so she's facing Billy.  "You know how much work I had to go through in the past decade or so.  It wasn't easy, but it was worth it.  Now, I'm here, marrying your brother, in charge of my own nonprofit, and some days are still better than others, but I'm okay.  You deserve to be okay, Billy.  You deserve to be happy.  You deserve to love yourself."

Billy fidgets.  He's heard Kate's story and a million other success stories, but never, not once, has he ever felt like he has the ability to achieve his own.  It's just not realistic.

He turns to look at both of them, and his eye is caught by the picture on the bookshelf.  He smiles and pulls it from its place.  Behind the glass is a photograph of him and Tommy at age fifteen, at Erik's home in northern Maine.  It's old and empty now, saved for vacations and nostalgia.

"Where's this from?"

"Kate must have brought it from the apartment," Tommy says, and Kate nods.

Billy smirks.  "Dude, you have a picture of us in your apartment?  That's so gay."  He puts it back, only for Tommy to take it.

"Granddad's home," Tommy says with a smile.  "That was a good summer."

Billy nods in agreement, and then halts.  "That was the year I came out."

Tommy looks up, not so smiley anymore.  "Oh, yeah."

Billy's hands twist together, and he heaves a deep breath.  "I think that summer - that was the last time I was really happy.  It's come and gone, but ever since I came out - it's just - there's always something."

Tommy sets the picture back down with a sigh.  "Things are going to change, Billy," he says.  "This hospital stay?  It's going to be really good for you.  I - I truly believe that you will overcome this, and that you'll get this feeling back."  He gestures to the photograph, where Billy is on the ground, laughing and holding his stomach.

He stands up without warning, and hauls his brother upward before engulfing him in a hug.  Billy's startled at first, but it doesn't take much for him to relax, especially when Kate joins them.  He feels a smile work its way onto his lips, and a single thought is able to break through his doubt - and that's that maybe Tommy's right.

_

6.

Lorelei is waiting for them when Loki and David saunter back into their office after lunch.  Both of them start, perturbed by her presence.  She sits atop Loki's desk, legs crossed and smirking like she does when something fishy is going to happen.

"Hello, boys," she greets.  "I came in earlier to talk to you, but you weren't here."

"What do you want?" David asks, eyes narrowed.

From behind her back, she pulls out an envelope, and David doesn't even have to ask what it is.  "Found this on your desk," she drawls.  "I hope you weren't hoping to keep it to yourself, David."

"Hand it over, Lorelei," he hisses and holds out a hand.

She shakes her head and laughs.  "You weren't planning to write anything, were you, David."  She isn't expecting an answer; she knows him too well.

"Lorelei, listen - "

"You used to be such a good journalist," Lorelei says, voice dripping with false disappointment.  "You really cared about telling the truth, David.  I don't know what happened - something with that twisted family of Maximoffs, but you've been compromised.  I knew when I saw this that you wouldn't do a thing with it.  That's not fair to the rest of us, David, and thanks to me, we're now publishing this."

"No, we're not," David says firmly.  "I'm the editor."

"Good thing I called another paper," Lorelei says, and laughs.

"Lorelei," Loki intercepts.  "This is madness - we're just journalists.  What are you playing at?"

"And you," Lorelei rounds on him.  "You were better than any of us.  You were ruthless, Loki - the kind of writer this paper needed.  Then you print one measly article that compromises someone's happiness and you fall off the deep end."

Loki winces, and David grabs his upper arm.

Lorelei laughs again.  "Just because Billy Maximoff is pathetic enough to try and take his own life doesn't mean you have to join him, Loki.  You're a coward."

David feels Loki crumble underneath his grip, and if he wasn't holding his ex-boyfriend steady right now, he would punch Lorelei in the face.

"Have a nice day, boys," Lorelei howls.  "I'm about to drop the biggest story of the year."

She leaves with a slam of the door and David curses loudly.  Loki, on the other hand, rips himself from David's grip and collapses behind his desk.  His eyes are wet, and his breath is heavy.

"I shouldn't have come back," he whispers.

"No, Loki - " David starts.  He steps up behind Loki, grabs his shoulders, and massages them.  "You belong here.  You do good here."

"No one's ever going to let me live that article down," Loki sighs.  "Least of all, me.  And the worst part is Billy Maximoff still has no idea that it was me.  Lorelei's right.  I am a coward."

"Stop," David practically begs.  "You're making so much progress, Loke."

A long moment of silence passes before Loki whispers, "We have to stop her."

David steps back and sighs.  "You let me know how we're going to do that.  In the meantime, I have to call Tommy and let him know our cover's been blown."

_

7.

After dinner, Wanda and Pietro retreat into her study and split a bottle of wine.  Billy's busy with Luna and Lorna and doesn't notice, which Wanda is extremely thankful for.  All alcohol and medication have been locked in her study, but he hasn't figured it out yet.  He doesn't even know if they've been relocated or dumped altogether.

Wanda takes a hearty swig of wine and leans against the edge of her desk.  "I don't know how we ever judged Billy for using alcohol to deal.  A drink is all I've wanted for the past twelve hours."

Pietro answers with a sip of his own.

"I have no idea what to do," Wanda sighs.

Pietro hums.  "You never did tell me what happened with Steve, but I have a guess."

Wanda raises an eyebrow.  "Tell me."

"He asked you to run with him, didn't he?"

Wanda's mouth falls open.  "How did you know?"

Pietro shrugs.  "I know Steve, and I know he doesn't want to lose you.  He also doesn't want to stifle your passion, so what better way than to offer a chance to run with him and keep working together."

Wanda groans.  She sets her glass down on her desk and begins pacing the room.  "What do I do, Pietro?"

He gives her a helpless look.  "That depends on what you want, Wanda."

She groans again, louder.  "I don't even know what I want."

"You want Billy and Tommy to be happy and healthy, I know that much," Pietro says.  He takes another sip of wine as she looks at him with sad eyes.  "Now you just have to be honest with yourself about your career.  How important to you is it?"

"Very," Wanda replies without hesitation.  "As much as I want to be there for my sons, I don't think I could be a stay-at-home mom again.  It's not good for my psyche."

"Then quitting is out of answer.  What's left is how much of it are you willing to sacrifice?"

Wanda doesn't answer.  She stares at the floor and bites at her lip for a long, long while.  No doubt Pietro knows exactly what she's thinking.  All this time, everyone's told her what a horrible idea running for President again would be.  It's too much work and too much pressure for everyone, but running for Vice President?

"It's kind of the perfect compromise, isn't it?" Wanda says, and Pietro only smiles.  "I have to take his offer, don't I?"

Pietro says nothing, just takes another drink of wine.

_

8.

Billy's got a bagel halfway into his mouth and a cardigan slung sloppily around his arms, on his way out the door, when a Secret Service Agent stops him.  He doubles back and spits the bagel out into his hand.

"What the hell?"

"I've been instructed not to let you or anyone outside of the family in or out without permission from your mother, uncle, or grandfather."

"Are you fucking serious?" Billy asks.  His bagel falls from his fingers to the floor, but he doesn't even bother to pick it up.  He's beyond annoyed.  His alarm didn't go off, and he didn't have time to shower, and the shirt he picked out for today had a stain so he had to change, and he burned his first bagel, and he's already running late, and he can't even leave the fucking house because apparently he's on house arrest and nobody told him.

"I'm just doing my job, Mr. Maximoff."

He huffs loudly.  "Look, this is bullshit - I have to meet my boyfriend across town in ten minutes and it's already impossible.  I don't have time to waste arguing with you."

He makes a grab for the door, but the agent reacts too quickly for him.  For a split second, he thinks about using his powers to win this, but that wouldn't be fair, and he would probably receive a much harsher punishment.  He'd probably be confined to his room.

"Man, seriously?  Fuck this."

"Alright, alright what's going on?"  Erik hobbles down the stairs and Billy paces over to him.

"What the hell is this, Granddad?  Since when am I on house arrest?  And why?  I agreed to go to treatment.  I haven't fucked up.  I just want to get some fresh air."

Erik looks past him to the agent.  "Give us a moment, would you?"

He nods and leaves the room.

"I don't deserve this," Billy says defiantly.

Erik grabs his shoulders, but Billy yanks himself away.  "Just calm down, son," Erik urges.  "We can talk this out, Billy."

"I need to meet Teddy at a coffee shop on West Fifth Street - I don't have time for this."

"Billy."

"This isn't fair.  This isn't right.  You guys should have talked to me first - "

"Billy."

He looks up to see his grandfather eyeing his hands.  Billy glances at them and jumps; they're glowing blue.  Immediately, they fade, and he breathes.

"I'm sorry.  I'm - I'm so sorry."

Erik sighs.  "This is why we need reinforcement, Billy."

"I swear I wasn't trying to do that," he protests.

"No, no," Erik says, holding up a hand.  "We need reinforcement because you don't listen to me or your mom or your uncle.  And besides that, we can't always be around to watch you."

"I'm fine," Billy insists, giving an eye-roll.

"I don't know if you remember, Billy, but you just spent five days in the hospital after an attempted suicide."

Billy swallows hard.  "Yes, yes, Granddad.  I remember."

"This isn't the first one either, Billy.  This is the second time in six months, and your mother and I are done taking any chances.  This is your goddamn life we're talking about."

"Well, can you do it in a way that makes me feel less shitty about myself?" Billy snaps.

"Don't you - don't you dare, William," Erik says in a deadly voice.  He's raised his finger and points it directly at his grandson's chest.  "For the past ten years, your mother, your uncle, and I have done everything we could to help you.  It's not easy, Billy.  We all know it, but there's nothing left for us to do.  We don't know how to keep you safe anymore, and damn us if we're going to let you kill yourself.  This is all we got, son, and maybe it's not the best idea, but we don't have any more."

He's worked up  now, breathing heavily and looking like he's about to collapse.  Billy takes a tentative step forward, all anger gone.

"Damn it, Billy, if you want to go - if you want to curse us all to hell and forget about everything, then by all means - do it.  But you don't - you don't know how hard it is for everyone you love to see you hurt yourself like this all the time.  We don't blame you for your illness, but we can't just stand by and let it destroy you."

"Granddad.  Granddad," Billy pleads.

Erik's shaking now.   He stumbles forward into Billy's arms and lets himself be led to the couch.  Billy sits down beside him, watching him carefully.

"Hey, hey," Billy whispers.  "Hey - I'm sorry I got upset.  I overreacted."

"Billy," Erik sighs and shakes his head.  His eyes are filled with tears, Billy notices, and his gut twinges.  "What happened, son?  What happened?  I - I remember you at five years old, smiling like the sun.  God, your brother was the tortured one.  Tommy spent all day sulking, but you were so happy all the time.  What happened, Billy?  Where did you go?"

Billy swallows hard again.  "I don't - I don't know, Granddad.  I don't know.  I - I've spent so long hating myself, trying to be anybody else - I don't even remember who the real me is anymore."

"There is so much good in you," Erik breathes.  He takes his grandson's face into his hands and Billy replies by wrapping his fingers around his grandfather's.  "You're amazing, Billy - in everything you do.  When I was a teenager, my hero was - was Captain America believe it or not.  I looked to him like no else, but now that I'm older, my tastes have changed.  I'm very much acquainted with Steve Rogers now, but I know you too, Billy.  And you're everything I've ever aspired to be.  It kills me that you can't see yourself through my eyes, or your mother's, or anyone else who loves you.  You're everything to us."

Billy hangs his head.  His eyes are burning fierce, and his throat is filled with a lump.  He leans his forehead against Erik's knees.

"I'm sorry, Granddad," he whispers.  "I wish - I wish I loved myself.  I really do."

"In time, you can learn," Erik replies.  He begins rubbing Billy's back.

"I'm scared," Billy whispers.  "I'm so scared."

"I am too."

"I don't want to be like this anymore.  Hating myself?  Suicidal?  Wanting nothing more than to be gone?  I don't want any of that.  I want to be happy."

"That's the first step," Erik assures.  He takes Billy and pushes him upward so he can look his grandson in the eye.  Billy wants to look away, but he doesn't.  "Billy, trust me - this isn't easy.  This is a nasty, nasty illness, and you're going to have to work hard, but you can do it.  The only thing that holds you back is you.  If you want this, and I know you do, then you can do it.  You can work hard and you can put everything into this recovery, or you can go back to a life of addiction and pain.  I know you're going to make the right choice - you already have.  And I'm proud of you, Billy, I really am."

Billy smiles.  He knows he's going to start crying any second, but he smiles anyway because after all this time, his family feels more like support than everything that's bringing him down.

_

9.

Tommy's breakfast sloshes around his stomach.   He debated stopping to make himself throw up before this, but he couldn't wait.  He steps into his mother's office, arms wrapped around himself.  She looks up when he enters and smiles.

"Hi, Tommy."

"H - hi, Mom," he says, then swallows.  "Look - I have something - I need to talk to you about something."

Immediately, her cheerful expression changes to worry.  Tommy's stomach plummets to the ground.  He takes a deep, deep breath and moves a careful step forward.

"One of David Alleyne's colleagues is printing a story about your resignation."

Wanda just scoffs.  "Speculation won't hurt."

"No," Tommy says.  "Mom - it's not speculation.  She's seen your letter."

Wanda's eyebrows knit together.  "What do you mean?" she asks.  Her voice is quiet, and Tommy knows she's starting to read between the lines.  "Only three people have seen it.  Steve, your uncle, and you."

If Tommy could run into oblivion right now, he would.  But he has a responsibility to answer to.

"I gave a copy to David," he whispers.  "I've been his informant since you told me you were running."

Wanda sits, dumbfounded for a long, agonizing minute before she stands up and crosses the room, leaving only a small amount of space between her and her son.

"Thomas Maximoff, are you out of your mind?"  she shouts.

He winces and subtly tries to back up.  "Mom, I'm sorry - "

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Yes, I'm well aware - "

"You've been plotting against me this whole time?"

"No, I mean - at first I was.  But then we started getting sponsors, and Pietro and I pulled together that campaign strategy, and it felt like maybe we could actually win.  If we had to sacrifice the family, then it had better be for something."

Wanda growls, throws her hand in the air and turns around.  "Thomas, I can't believe this."

Bile rises in his throat, and Tommy wraps his arms back around himself.  "I can fix this.  I promise I can fix this.  Mom, I'm sorry - "

"No, you're not," Wanda sighs.  "You don't even get it.  Your career is ruined now.  When that article hits the streets, everyone will know it was you."

Tommy looks up, confused.  His mother's campaign is starting out in the toilet and all she cares about is him?  She doesn't care that he was trying to do this for the good of the family, or that for the past decade everything he's ever done was for her career.  Now suddenly, his name is soiled, and she gives a shit?  "Well, I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment," he scoffs.

"Thomas," Wanda starts.  She pulls her glasses off her face and rubs at her eyes.

"No," he retorts.  An anger he's never felt is building up in his stomach, ready to explode.  "No - don't start.  God, I can't - I don't even know where to begin.  I do everything for you, Mom.  And this once - for the whole family.  You're not even trying to understand.  You're consumed with _my career_.  Who says I even care?  Who says I even want this?  I've been working for you since I could legally hold a job.  Look at me - I'm twenty-seven years old and my biggest fear is _disappointing my mother_."

Wanda scoffs.  "You've certainly done that with flying colors."

"This is ridiculous," Tommy mutters.  "This is absolutely ridiculous."

"This is not ridiculous," Wanda argues.  "Your name in this city - "

"Forget it, then," Tommy interrupts.  "Forget about my career.  I quit.  You know - I've just realized how much bullshit I put up with for you, and I'm done.  My resignation will be on your desk in the morning."

He turns, and not even daring to look at his mother's face, exits the room.

_

10.

Kate is in their room, sorting through her books and picking out ones she thinks Billy might like while he's in the hospital.  She's surrounded by them, and when Tommy comes bursting in, he trips and falls to his knees.  However, his powers are triggered and he's back on his feet in a milisecond, leaving behind a gush of wind and a couple of flying books.

Kate blinks.  "Are - are you okay, honey?"

Tommy actually thinks about it.  Kate watches his face contort.  "I'm - I'm good," he finally decides.  I'm good."

Kate stands up slowly, caught between an amused smile and a grimace.  "What happened?"

"I quit," Tommy says.  "I quit my job, Kate.  I - I've had it.  I'm done working for my mother."

"Whoa - whoa," Kate says.  "Wait, what?  Why?"

"She makes me feel like shit," Tommy replies, matter-of-fact.  "And I'm done, and - and what's even more - "  He steps over the books and begins pacing the room with his pointed finger leading him.  "I think - I think we should elope, Kate."

"Wait - what?"

"You said yourself that this was all too much.  That trying to plan a wedding with my mom was hell."

"Yeah, but that was like three months ago.  What we have is pretty good."

"Our wedding is going to be crowded with paparazzi and press.  It's going to be overwhelmingly extravagant.  It's not even going to feel personal.  Our - our wedding should be about us, Kate.  Just us.  Let's go.  Let's elope."

"Tommy," Kate says, disbelieving.  She reaches out, and he catches her by the arms, holding her against him.  "Where would we even go?"

"I have the perfect place," he assures.

"This is crazy," Kate breathes, but she's smiling.  "I don't - I don't even know what's going on with you, but you've never been this romantic and I kind of love it."

"Is that a yes?" Tommy asks.

Kate nods.  "If you're serious."

"I'm definitely serious," Tommy grins.  Without warning, Kate pulls him in for a kiss.  He responds with eagerness, snaking his arms around her waist.  For once, he's the one who actually wants sex.  Her boobs aren't driving him crazy, but feeling her hand on his cock is in fact doing the job.

She pulls away when he goes hard and looks at him with surprise.  "Tommy - ?"

"Don't ask questions," he replies.  "Just let me fuck you, thanks.  We both know how rare this is - let us treasure the moment."

She laughs and undoes his belt.

_

11.

Wanda is quick to react.  She's almost surprised at herself for remaining so calm.  Then again, with her life in shambles, it's just another day by now.  She calls David after Tommy leaves and they set up a time to meet over lunch.

At exactly 12:30, she meets David in a cafe close to his work.  They sit in the corner, and two Secret Service Agents sit in the car outside while another drinks a coffee two tables away from them.

"Alright, explain," Wanda says.

David sighs heavily.  "I left your letter on my desk and one of my coworkers stole away into my office and took it.  She knew I wasn't going to do anything with it, so she took her pitch to another paper."

Wanda rubs her throbbing temple.  He finger traces the wood grain of the table.  "You've been working against me.  All this time, I thought we were developing a good relationship.  Like you were someone I could talk to outside of my family.  Not just for journalistic intent."

"I thought that too," David mutters.

Wanda narrows her eyes at him.  "My son's been feeding you confidential information against my wishes."

"You told me you were running, made me promise to keep my mouth shut and in reward I would get to print an exclusive story.  Then you stopped telling me anything.  Not even about Billy," David points out.  "If we really had more than a professional relationship, then you would have told me, but you don't trust me, do you, Secretary Maximoff?"

"Do you think I should have a good reason to now?" she snaps back.

David shrinks in his seat.  "Look, Madam - I can - I still think I can keep this from happening."

Wanda shakes her head.  "I'm not even worried about myself, David.  Whatever your coworker's printing - it's incorrect, but whatever she does print - everyone will know that it was my son who was the informant.  He won't be able to work anywhere in politics again.  No one will trust him.  I mean - if he could do this to his own mother, then . ."

"Wait, wait, wait," David says, holding up his hands.  "What do you mean Lorelei's article is incorrect?"

"I'm not resigning anymore," Wanda says with a half a smile.  She still isn't sure that this is the best idea, but it's a compromise she can't give up.

David straightens, suddenly (surprisingly) invested.  "Why not?  What changed your mind?"

Wanda folds her fingers together, slow, calculated.  "I tried to, but President Rogers asked me to run with him instead.  As Vice President."

"And you're taking his offer?" David asks with a small grin.

"I am," Wanda confirms.  "It's what's best for both me and my family."

David's smile grows.  "Madam Secretary, this - this is fantastic news.  I'm happy for you, I really am, and this - this gives me reason to argue Lorelei's article.  I can write my own with the truth, and I can postpone hers for a better, fuller story."

The tension eases just slightly in Wanda's chest.  She doesn't want to get her hopes up.  "Could you really do that?"

David takes a deep breath.  "I don't know, but I can try.  I hope whatever paper Lorelei contacted would have enough sense to pick a story like mine over hers."

Wanda nods.  "Well, David, I wish us both the best of luck."

_

12.

Billy stands outside the door of Teddy's apartment, bubbling with anxiety.  His hand shakes when he reaches up to knock on the door, and his heart jumps to his throat when footsteps sound behind it.  Teddy opens the door with a shy smile and Billy stays rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he struggles out.  "I - I was ambushed by the Secret Service.  Apparently I'm on indefinite house arrest."

Teddy pops a smirk and steps forward to pull Billy into a hug.  Billy melts into him so easily and when he feels safe, leans up to plant a kiss on Teddy's mouth.  He tries to pull back, but Teddy stops him, wrapping his fingers around the nape of Billy's neck.  Billy never realized how much he missed the taste of him until now.

"God, it's so good to see you," Teddy breathes against his mouth.

"Yeah, when I'm not loopy in the hospital?" Billy asks.

Teddy laughs, but it sounds painful.  "Well, really - it's just good to see you alive."

Billy's heart gives a tug and his stomach fills with guilt.  "I'm sorry, Teddy.  I'm sure I haven't said that enough - "

"Billy," Teddy says, firm.  He grabs Billy's hand and leads him inside.  They sit down on the couch, facing each other.  Teddy lays a gentle hand on Billy's knee and begins, voice quiet.  "I don't blame you for anything that's happened.  I really don't, and I just - I hope you don't blame me either.  I know I said some pretty awful things that night, and I - I deeply regret them.  I didn't mean any of it, Billy - not a word - "

"Teddy," Billy pleads now.   He places his hand over Teddy's and rubs his thumb over knuckles.  His boyfriend's eyes are filling with tears, and Billy doesn't know if he can hold it together either.  "Please, please, please - for the love of god - don't you blame yourself.  That doesn't help either of us."

"I know," Teddy says and wraps his fingers around Billy's hand, holding it tightly.  "I don't blame myself, not really, but I'm still sorry, Billy.  I was a jerk."

"I forgive you - absolutely."

"I love you so much."  Teddy's voice cracks.  "I love you so fucking much, Billy, and I don't ever want to be without you.  I couldn't - if you had succeeded, Billy - I don't - I don't know what I would - "  He chokes off into a shaky breath, and Billy watches him fall apart.  On instinct, Billy hugs him again.  With his arms around Teddy's shoulders, he moves them up and down, hand rubbing his forearm.

"I'm okay," Billy whispers.  "Teddy, I'm okay."

"I'm scared you won't always be," Teddy barely gets out.

Billy grips the sides of his face, forcing Teddy to look straight at him.  "I'm not always going to be, Teddy.  I'm going to have bad days, but I'm not going back to this.  I can promise you that.  I'm going to treatment.  I'm going to soak up everything they teach me, and I'm going to utilize that.  I can tell you with confidence that I will never kill myself.  It's taken awhile, but I've realized that this isn't the life I want.  This isn't what I want and I'm going to work at it making myself better."

Teddy doesn't answer; he's fighting through sobs.

"I love you, Teddy," Billy whispers.  "And I know you love me, but it's not your job to save me.  I have to save myself. All you have to do is wait for me."

Teddy shakes his head.  He sputters out a messy half-laugh.  "I'll wait forever.  If that what it takes, I will."

Billy smiles and presses a kiss to Teddy's head before saying, "You won't have to wait that long, but it's good to know."

"I'm going to miss you," Teddy sighs.  "While you're away."

"I'm going to miss you, too," Billy admits.  "But when I come back, it will all be worth it."

"I know," Teddy says, nodding.  "I know."

"Good," Billy says.  "Now, I believe we have a picnic lunch to grab."

Teddy smiles again, leaning his forehead against Billy's shoulder.  They're probably not actually going to move for awhile, but Billy's okay with that.

_

13.

Everything is normal.

Lorna's sitting at the bar, sandwiched between her father and her niece.  Luna is coloring with crayons.  Pietro is in the kitchen, cooking half of dinner while he waits for Wanda to return with groceries so he can start the other half.  Tommy's at home.  Billy's with Teddy.  She knows exactly where everyone is and what everyone's doing when she walks through the door, plastic bags in hand.

Wanda smiles, asks Luna what she's coloring as she hauls the groceries onto the counter.  Luna smiles and shows her a beautifully-colored picture of flowers.

"You think you're getting too old for that yet?" Lorna jokes.

Luna scoffs.  "You're never too old to color.  Ask Tommy."

Wanda laughs.  She's happy.  She's calm.

And then the Secret Service is breaking down her door, shouting orders at one another.  Several talk into their pagers all at once, and her family scatters.  Luna screams for her father as she's lifted from her seat.  Pietro shuts off the stove before taking her into his arms.

"All clear," someone says.  "The Secretary is safe."

"Madam?" another asks.  "Where are your sons?"

"At - at their homes," she answers, disjointed and disoriented.  "Well, Thomas is at home.  William is at  his boyfriend's apartment."

"We have Thomas' address.  You'll have to give us the other."

"What - what's happening, first?" Wanda asks.

Someone behind her answers.  "Air force one has crashed."

_

14.

The office is hell.  People are rushing around.  Papers are literally flying around everywhere, thrown off desks by the wind of passersby as everyone attempts in vain to cover this event.  David's handed off all editorial duties to a bewildered and suspicious Lorelei, and now him and Loki are locked inside his office in a desperate attempt to bring the resignation story down.

"I still have no idea how we're going to do this," Loki says.

"I told you," David huffs.  "While everyone else is busy trying to cover this crash, we're getting ahead of the game.  We'll write this article, publish it online, send a link to Sigurd.  He knows he's toast, and Lorelei's article is canceled."

"Sigurd is not going to fall for this," Loki argues.  "He's ruthless.  He won't trust us - especially me.  Plus, he's fucking Lorelei, so I'm pretty sure she's safe."

"If Sigurd is as good a journalist as he boasts, there's no way he'll try to compete with us.  He knows I'm Wanda Maximoff's bitch.  He's not going to fight my source when his own is so sketchy."

Loki groans.  "This is mad."

"It'll work," David insists.

"Even if it does - we're completely ignoring what's happening.  President Rogers could very well die, and what's the point of either of these articles?  Carol Danvers will take over, and Wanda Maximoff goes off the grid."

David shakes his head and only continues to type.  "And if he does survive?  We're ready.  No matter what happens, Lorelei's article will be trashed, and the Maximoffs will stay safe."

Loki hauls himself out of his desk and begins pacing.  His only distraction is the television in the corner, volume turned low.

_

15.

_"Airforce one is almost entirely in flames above the water, shattered off the coast of Japan.  Outside of President Steven Rogers, the pilot, the assistant pilot, six Secret Service agents, and two diplomats were aboard.  There is still no sign of life among the wreckage."_

_

16.

Most of the world watches.

No one suspects terrorism yet, but Billy and Teddy are brought back to Wanda's house.  Tommy and Kate are nowhere to be found or reached, no matter how many times Erik or Wanda call them.

While David types, Loki keeps watch - watch on the television, and watch on the employees that rush past their office, not sparing a single glance their direction.

At 11:33 PM, President Steve Rogers is pulled from the water.  The world holds its breath, and then the President coughs.  He's breathing.  He's bleeding.  He's alive.

At 11:35 PM, David publishes the article about Wanda joining forces with Steve Rogers.

At 11:41 PM, Tommy finally answers his phone.

At 1:37 AM, Steve Rogers arrives back in America and is taken to the hospital.

At 1:38 AM, Wanda leaves her family and heads across town.

_

17.

With the supersoldier healing, Steve is already fairly stable when Wanda arrives.  He's suffered a fair amount of broken bones, which had to be quickly set due to the pace of recovery.  In addition, there was a lot of internal bleeding and some organ damage.  That's already been rectified, so basically, Steve is terribly, extremely sore as his bones fuse back together.

He's awake when Wanda arrives, and she nearly bursts into tears.  He offers a painful smile and urges her to sit down.  She does, collapsing into the chair next to his bed.

"People I care about really need to stop almost dying," she moans.  Steve breathes a sigh that she thinks is maybe supposed to be a laugh.

"I'll be well enough by morning," Steve grunts.

"And then you will be taking a few days off," Wanda all but orders.  "Carol can handle everything until then."

"Wanda," Steve says.  He grimaces as he shifts his weight around so he can lean toward her, accentuating the cuts and bruises on his face.

She reaches out absently, not grabbing at anything.  "What's wrong, Steve?"

He sighs, then winces.  "I did a lot of thinking on the ride back to the U.S.," he begins.  His breath is heavy, and each word is pointed with pain.  "And I've come to a new decision about the future for us."

Wanda swallows hard.  Her heart starts racing against her ribcage.  Of all things, Wanda was not expecting to discuss this at the hospital.  And then again, a near-death experience forces people to think about what's most important to them, she supposes.

"I'm not running again," Steve says, and for a good moment afterward, his words don't register in Wanda's mind.  They go in her ears sounding like gibberish, and she has to unscramble the sounds before they make any sense to her.

"Wait," she says, eyebrows coming together.  "You're not - ?"

"Not running again," Steve repeats.  "I don't want to be President again.  I think it's your time."

Wanda doesn't even think about what to say, she just blurts out, "No."

Steve smiles, lopsided.  "Wanda - "

"Wait, no," she says again.  "No, no - Steve, I was going to accept.  I was going to join you.  You - you can't back out - "

He coughs a laugh.  "Isn't this a little hypocritical, Wanda?  Don't you remember what you said to me when you tried to hand in your resignation?"

"Which you didn't accept," Wanda splutters.  "Steve - "

"My decision," he says.  "And I stand by it.  You should run for President yourself."

Wanda shakes her head.  No, no.  She came to a compromise.  She was going to do what's best for herself and her family, and that was running with Steve.  Not without him.  She can't - she can't just change everything around again.  She already told everyone.  She told her family, she told David - she can't.

"Steve, I can't," she insists.  "That's - that's too much."

"Even if I offer to help with your campaign?"  Steve asks.  She looks to him, and goddamnit, she feels herself caving.  "You'd be a shoe-in, Wanda, and we both know it."

She chews on her lip and shakes her head.  With difficulty, Steve reaches out from under the blanket and grabs Wanda's hand.  His grip is weaker than normal, but still firm.

"You know you can do it, Wanda."

She lets out something close to a roar and then rubs furiously at her face.  "Steve - "

"Wanda."

"Fine," she huffs.  "Fine, I'll do it.  I'll run by myself.  Happy?"

She looks at him, hopeless, and he just keeps smiling.

"There's one more thing."

"Oh no," she groans.

"I want to be a couple."

Wanda freezes.  Her heart restarts and she forgets how to breathe.  This is too much.  This is too much to handle at once.  Her son just attempted suicide, her other son is filled with resentment, Steve almost died, he dropped out of their campaign they haven't even started yet, and now he wants to date?  Wanda wants to melt into the ground.

"Steve - "

"It doesn't have to be now - just whenever you're ready."

She sighs again, but smiles this time.  "Just heal, Steve.  Get back on your feet and then we'll talk about dating."

He leans back and closes his eyes.  "I'll take that as a yes."

_

18.

"Unbelievable," Erik growls.

Pietro pulls himself up so he's sitting straight.  "What did he say?"

Erik looks around the room to make sure everyone is listening before he says, "He and Kate decided to elope."

A chorus of "What?!"s follows, and Billy mutters, "Holy shit.  I didn't see that coming."

"He wouldn't tell me where," Erik huffs.

"Of course not," Pietro says.  "Not if they decided to elope.  Obviously they don't want us there."

Lorna scoffs.  "Well, we're coming anyway.  Does anyone have any ideas?"

"I do," Billy says, and everyone turns to him.  "Let me just - let me check first."  He closes his eyes and joins his hands together, palms up.  After a second of silence and everyone staring, unsure, at him, he cracks one eye open to say, "Strange taught me how to do this."

Pietro, along with everyone else, watches as Billy's hands begin to glow.  The electricity begins to take shape, and vague, blurry images of Tommy appear within.  Billy lets out a few strangled noises as the intensity of it strengthens.  A burst of light, and Billy falls  back against the couch, breathing heavily.

Briefly, Pietro feels a surge of pride go through his heart.  He flashes back to the story he told Billy's sleeping form in the hospital, and he entertains the thought that maybe Billy learning from Strange isn't such a terrible idea after all.  If he's gaining confidence and control this time, then maybe it's good for him.

"I was right," he heaves.  "Tommy and Kate are at Granddad's home."

"Maine?" Pietro asks.  "What the hell could they want there?"

"Some peace and quiet," Billy replies with a smirk.

_

19.

It's warm, but not too warm, and the wind is thankfully minimal.  The grass is dry and greener than Tommy's ever seen it.  Kate's dress trails along the ground, picking up dirt, but neither of them care.  She's beautiful, so, so beautiful, and Tommy's not sure he's ever felt this grateful to be with someone like her.  He smiles as they step up in front of the retired agents they've managed to recruit for this, and he takes her hands.

"I can't believe we're finally here," he says, voice watery.

Kate giggles, smile wide, showing nearly all of her teeth.  Her eyes are brimming with tears, and Tommy knows he'll be crying soon enough as well.

"I'm so happy," he breathes.  "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Kate."

"And you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Kate echoes.  "You've helped me love myself, Tommy, and I'll never be able to thank you for that."

"You're everything I've ever wanted," Tommy chokes, and shit, yeah.  He's crying.  "I feel like I'm in a dream, although all my life, I never dreamt I could marry someone as amazing as you."

She laughs, and gives his hand a squeeze.  "Alright, speedy - let's save the rest for our vows."

He laughs too and turns toward their officiator.

"Okay - we're gathered here today - all five of us, to witness the marriage of Thomas Maximoff and Katherine Bishop - "

The roaring of cars over gravel stops them, and Tommy and Kate turn in slight horror to find a parade of government vehicles.  Tommy curses under his breath.

"How in the hell - ?"

They watch as the cars crackle to halt right in front of the house, and then all the Maximoffs stumble out.  Billy, Teddy, and Pietro are all wearing pressed, grey suits, and Wanda, Lorna, and Luna are decorated in baby blue dresses.    From around the other side of the cars, emerges Steve Rogers, wheelchair bound.  His suit is the same color as the dresses.  Kate buries her face in her hands.

"Oh, god."

"I guess it's an honor," Tommy says with a shrug.

"Sorry, guys," Billy shouts across the lawn.  "But we couldn't let you get married without us."

Tommy, defeated, takes Kate by the hand and leads her over to his family.  They embrace everyone, and apologize over and over, flushed with guilt.  Wanda is last, and she pulls Tommy hard into the tightest hug he might have ever received.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she all but blubbers.  "I'm sorry I put all that pressure on you.  I'm sorry I never let you be who you wanted.  I love you so much, Thomas.  You and your brother are my whole life, and I - I never want you to believe less."

"Mom, Mom," Tommy groans, pulling away as she kisses his face.   "Mom, it's okay - please."

"David stopped the article, by the way," she says, and a large feeling of relief falls over him.

"Thank, God," he mutters.  "Because I really didn't want to quit," he adds sheepishly.

Wanda claps him on the back.  "I didn't think so.  Your spot's still open."

"Alright, everyone," Pietro shouts over the crowd.  "Let's get this show on the road.  I'll take over from here," he tells the officiator, and everyone hurries into their spots.

Tommy feels a little teary still, but his family has just crashed his elopement and he's also kind of hysterical with suppressed laughter.  This is turning into the weirdest wedding.  He takes Kate's hands again, and she smiles up at him.

"Maximoffs," Pietro begins.  "We are here today to celebrate the joining in holy matrimony of our own Thomas Maximoff and Katherine Bishop.  Remain silent as they recite their vows.  Tommy," he offers.

Tommy gives Kate's hand a squeeze before he begins, already choked up.

"Kate.  I met you five years ago at a mutual friend's birthday party.  I thought you were the most amazing person I'd ever met, and then I fucked up and left the party without getting your number.  Luckily, we met again two weeks later at a Mental Health Awareness Rally, but you hit it off with my brother instead.  These meetings continued until finally, one of us got the courage enough to ask the other out.  It was you of course.

"Since then, you've helped me to grow out of my shell and accept who I am, faults and all.  I've had a lot of reasons to feel undeserving of you, but you shattered them all and opened up to me in return.  I don't take any of this for granted, and I don't know how I'll ever thank you.

"Now, we're here.  We're spending the rest of lives together, and there's no one else I'd rather have.  You're it for me, Katie, and I knew that when I met you.  I'm not a perfect person, and you don't expect me to be.  You love me for who I am, and it means more than I could ever say that you're going to keep loving me like that for the rest of your life.  I can only promise to do the same in return.  I love you, Kate."

She started crying after the first sentence, and Tommy's in full tears when he finishes.  Kate has to take a few minutes to calm down before she recites her own vows, and Tommy holds her hands the entire time.

"Tommy," she begins.  "When I was sixteen, something happened to me that made me believe I would be undesirable for the rest of my life.  Since the moment I met you, you have done everything to discount that.  You've allowed me to save me from myself, Tommy, and that's all I could have ever asked for.  You say you don't know how you can thank me, but you already have.  You've repaid me.

"I didn't ever think I would find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with me, but this has been the easiest decision we've ever made together.  I didn't even have to think when you asked me.  I've known for a long time now that I couldn't wait for this day to come

"I will absolutely love you for the rest of my life, Tommy.  You're everything to me.  There is no contest.  You're all I will ever need.  I love you."

"The rings?" Pietro  asks.

Billy hands them over and Kate and Tommy slide them carefully onto each other's fingers.

"We shall proceed," Pietro continues.  "Thomas, do you take Kate Bishop to be your lawfully wedded wife for as long as you both shall live."

He squeezes her hands one more time.  "I do."

"Katherine, do you take Tommy Maximoff to be your lawfully wedded husband for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Then by the power invested in me by - the internet, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss," Pietro finishes triumphantly, and they do to a chorus of cheers.

When they finish, Tommy balances their foreheads together.  "I love you, Mrs. Maximoff."

_

20.

David and Loki are celebrating their victory at Verity's place with Thor.  They ordered pizza, and Verity whipped up some virgin margaritas, and Loki hasn't smiled this much in ages.  He sits sandwiched between his brother and his ex-boyfriend, and it's not even uncomfortable.

It's only when the night is winding down that Loki approaches the subject with Verity and David.

He's sprawled out in an armchair now, and the two of them sit adjacent to him on the couch.  Thor's in the bathroom, and the opportunity presents itself.

"Hey, guys," Loki begins.  "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

Both David and Verity look up.

"What's going on, Loki?" Verity asks.

"Well," Loki says, grinning.  "I'm moving out."

"Really?" Verity asks, voice caught between excitement and disappointment.

"Yes," Loki confirms.

"Aww, I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Verity," Loki laughs.  "But don't worry, I can still see you on the weekends.  I'm moving in with Thor.  He decided to take a year off of medical school and we've found an apartment downtown."

"I'm so happy for you," Verity says, utterly genuine.

"I'm - I'm actually happy too," Loki says, and he blinks like he's just realized it for the first time.  "It's a really nice place, and I hope you two will visit every chance you get."

"Of course we will," David assures.

"There's more," Loki says, and his smile grows even bigger.  It's weird, feeling proud of himself, but it's a good weird.  "I got my own psychiatrist.  I start seeing her next Monday, and - and I've decided I'm open to the idea of medication.  Whatever helps, I'll do it."

David and Verity exchange a look before they both stand up and tackle Loki in a group hug.

"We're so proud of you," Verity says, voice muffled by the fact that her cheek is squished against Loki's head.

"Thank you, guys," Loki grunts back.  "I couldn't have to come this without you two."  They ease up, and what Loki says next makes his throat constrict.  "I honestly - I don't know if I would be alive right now without the two of you.  I know I freaked out when you called Thor, but - it was the right decision.  I probably would have killed myself if he hadn't came and talked sense into me."

"I'm glad you feel that way," David replies.  He presses a soft kiss to Loki's cheek.  "We only ever wanted to help you."

"You did," Loki assures.  "You helped me more than anyone else ever has, and for that, I will be eternally grateful."  He pulls them both back in for another hug and lets himself enjoy it.

_

21.

The evening ceremonies are actually quite fun.  Pietro, Teddy, and Lorna unload all the food from the SUVs and bring them in. Billy mans the music, and yes, Erik does get to perform his stupid metal ball trick.  Billy cheers the loudest.

It's late, and Luna has fallen asleep in her father's lap.  Teddy's talking with Kate and Tommy's listening in.  Billy's sitting alone and Wanda approaches him with a glass of sparkling cider.  He takes it happily and sips.

"I've probably had like a gallon of this stuff tonight," Billy mutters.  "But you know - I like it much more than vodka.  I wouldn't mind getting addicted to this."

"Your bowels might mind," Wanda replies, and Billy closes his eyes in disbelief.

"Mom," he says.  "Can we not talk about my bowels, thanks."

"No, we don't have to," Wanda says with a laugh.  "Actually, I came over here to talk about something else."

"Mmm?" Billy hums, raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to the hospital in two weeks, you know that," Wanda begins.  Billy nods, his cheerful nature starting to disappear.  "I think that you should stay somewhere on the longer end of the timescale they give you."

"What if they ask me to stay like six months?" Billy asks with a hint of terror.

Wanda purses her lips.  "Stay for at least six weeks."

Billy nods again.  "Okay, okay.  I can live with that."

"And when you return," Wanda continues.  "I think you should keep training with Strange."

The sparkling cider comes to halt halfway to Billy's mouth.  He lowers it carefully, just staring at his mother.  "Wait, what?"

"You should keep training with Strange," Wanda repeats.  Billy looks around the room, as if he thinks he's being pranked.  "I'm serious," Wanda says.  "Pietro and I had a long discussion on the way here.  He told me about how well you used your powers to find Tommy and Kate, and that wasn't the only time we ever noticed anything.  You are better when you're in control.  Practicing magic makes you happy, and we don't want to take that away from you."

Billy opens his mouth, then closes it, at a loss for words.

"We blamed Strange when we should have blamed our genetics," Wanda sighs.  "Depression manifests itself in different ways, and yours hit hard when your training hit a snag, but it's still the illness' fault.  We believe in you, Billy.  We believe in your powers, and we want to see you succeed with them."

Billy nods slowly.  "Thank - thank you," he stutters.

"I love you, son," Wanda says.  She sets her glass down and opens her arms for a hug.  Billy follows.

"I love you too, Mom," Billy says.  "And I'm sorry I ever believed you were against me.  You know what's best, I know that."

Wanda shakes her head against his.  "You also know what's best for you, Billy.  I see that now."

"Still - you knew how to help me when I didn't know how to help myself.  Thank you for staying with me and supporting me."

"You're my son, Billy," Wanda whispers.  Her throat is tight, and she's scared her voice will break.  "I'm always going to be here for you."

_

22.

After everyone else has gone to sleep, Pietro and Wanda are left up.  They recline on the porch, watching the stars glitter across the sky.

"I don't know, Pietro," Wanda sighs.  "I don't know if I can do this."

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet already," Pietro scoffs.  "You've been fighting for months to get your campaign started.  Now that President Rogers is behind you, you're freaking out?"

Wanda groans.  "I don't know.  I just don't know."

"When he leaves office, this country is going to need a real leader.  You're it, Wanda."

She looks at her brother, not entirely sure she believes him.  "Do you really think so, Pietro?"

"Yes," he insists without missing a beat.  "So , say it Wanda.  Say you're running for President again."

She stares at him for a long, long time, and when she opens her mouth, her brain is filled with so many conflicting thoughts, she's not even sure what comes out.  All she knows is that whatever happens, there is one thing that remains imminent: her family comes first.

 


End file.
